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THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


A  Navaho  Medicine  Man. 
(After  Harper’s  Weekly). 


THE 

MEDICINE 


MAN 


A  Sociological  Study  of  the  Character 
and  Evolution  of  Shamanism 


4  BY 

ADDOX,  Ph.D.  (Yale) 

Captain  {retired)  in  the  United  States  Army 


WITH  A  FOREWORD 
BY 

PROFESSOR  A.  G.  KELLER 

OF  YALE  UNIVERSITY 


Ittew  UJorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1923 

All  rights  reserved 

**•  ty****** 


PRINTED  IN  GERMANY 


TO 

PROFESSOR  ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER, 

OF  YALE  UNIVERSITY, 

A  TEACHER  AND  SCHOLAR  TO  WHOM  HE  OWES  MUCH, 

THIS  BOOK  IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 

* 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS: 


A  Navaho  Medicine  Man . 

A  Blackfoot  Medicine  Man  in  Full 
Regalia . 

m 

Another  Device  of  the  Medicine  Man 
For  Frightening  Daimons  .  .  .  . 


FRONTISPIECE. 


FACING  PAGE  102. 


FACING  PAGE  124. 


A  Kaffir  Medicine  Man  Prescribing  . 


FACING  PAGE  208. 


CONTENTS 


List  of  Illustrations  .  .  .  . . 

Foreword . 

Preface  .  • 

List  of  Abbreviations . 

CHAPTER  I 

Introductory . .  .  .  . 

CHAPTER  II 

The  Making  of  the  Medicine  Man . 

CHAPTER  III 

Medicine  Women . 

CHAPTER  IV 

Adventitious  Aids;  Charlatans;  The  Social 
Position  of  the  Medicine  Man  .  .  .  . 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Functions  of  the  Medicine  Man;  Perils 
of  Failure;  Rewards  of  Success,  in¬ 
cluding  Fees  of  The  Medicine  Man  .  . 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  Methods  of  the  Medicine  Man  .  .  .  . 

CHAPTER  VII 

The  History  of  Some  Medical  Remedies  .  . 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Conclusion . 

Index  . 

Errata  ....  . . 


PAGES 

VI 

IX— XII 
XIII— XV 
VIII 

1—21 


22—71 

72—90 


91—131 


132—166 


167-226 

227—282 

283—293 

312—326 

327 

vn 


ABBREVIATIONS. 


Am.  Jour.  Pharmacy  .  .  . 

Am.  Jour,  of  Psychology  . 

Am.  Med.  Ass . 

Am.  Pharm.  Ass . 

Am.  Phil.  Soc . 

Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science 

Bur.  Eth . 

Cat.  N.  A.  Indians  .  .  .  . 


Contrib.  North  Am.  Eth.  .  . 

Die.  de  Mat.  Med . 

Encyc.  Brit . 

Healing  Art . 

Hist.  Veg.  Drugs . 

Informat.  Respect.  Indian  Tribes 

Internat.  Cong,  of  Anthrop.  . 

Jour.  Am.  Folklore  .... 
J.  A.  I . 

J.  A.  Soc.  Bengal . 

J.  A.  Soc.  of  Bombay  .  .  . 

Med.  Naturvolker . 

Peters’  Ancient  Pharmacy  .  . 

Prim.  Cult . . 

Prin.  Soc . 

Pop.  Sci.  Monthly . 

Saxon  Leechdoms  .... 

Trans.  Linn.  Society  .... 
Useful  Drugs . 

W.  African  Studies  .... 
Yale  Med.  Journal  .... 


American  Journal  of  Pharmacy. 
American  Journal  of  Psychology. 
American  Medical  Association. 
American  Pharmaceutical  Asso¬ 
ciation,  Proceedings  of. 

American  Philosophical  Society, 
Proceedings  of. 

Australasian  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science. 

Bureau  of  American  Ethnology. 
Catlin,  Letters  and  Notes  on  the 
Manners  and  Customs  and  Conditions 
of  the  North  American  Indians- 
Contributions  to  North  American 
Ethnology. 

Merat  et  de  Lens,  Dictionnaire 
Universel  de  Matibre  M6dicale. 
Encyclopedia  Britannica. 

Berdoe,  Origin  and  Growth  of  the 
Healing  Art. 

Lloyd,  History  of  Vegetable  Drugs. 
Schoolcraft,  Historical  and  Statisti¬ 
cal  Inf  ormation  Respecting  the  Indian 
Tribes  of  the  United  States. 
International  Congress  of  Anthro¬ 
pologists. 

Journal  of  American  Folklore. 
Journal  of  Anthropological  Institute 
of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 
Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of 
Bengal. 

Journal  of  the  Anthropological 
Society  of  Bombay. 

Bartels,  DieMedizinderNaturvblker. 
Peters,  Hermann,  Pictorial  History 
of  Ancient  Pharmacy. 

Tylor,  Primitive  Culture. 

Spencer,  Principles  of  Sociology. 
Popular  Science  Monthly. 
Cockayne,  Saxon  Leechdoms,  Wort- 
Cunning  and  Star  Craft. 
Transactions  of  the  Linnean  Society. 
American  Medical  Association’s 
Handbook  of  Useful  Drugs. 
Kingsley,  West  African  Studies. 
Yale  Medical  Journal. 


VIII 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


. 


FOREWORD 


The  most  satisfying  outcome  of  any  scientific  study 
is  the  conviction  that  truth  has  prevailed,  and  so,  pre¬ 
sumably,  will  prevail.  And  in  no  other  range  of  obser¬ 
vation  is  this  conviction  more  gratifying  than  in  the 
field  of  social  phenomena.  The  beginnings  of  what  we 
now  most  prize  have  been  childish,  laughable,  grotesque, 
revolting,  or  downright  horrible.  But  this  was  not  because 
men  were  wrong-headed  and  perverse ;  it  was  simpfy 
because  they  did  not  know,  as  the  child  does  not.  They 
were  doing  the  best  they  could,  under  the  circumstances. 
They  had  wrong  premises  from  which  they  deduced, 
logically  enough,  conclusions  that  were  wrong.  With  no 
external  or  adventitious  aids,  they  sized  up  the  problem 
of  living  as  it  appeared  to  them  and  evolved  a  life-policy 
which  they  put  into  practice. 

In  this  practice  the  adequacy  of  the  theory  was  always 
challenged  by  and  tested  on  the  actual  conditions  of 
living.  However  strongly  supported  by  tradition  and  by 
what  we  call  superstition,  the  theory  could  not  indefinitely 
stand  if  it  involved  maladjustment  to  these  conditions; 
and  even  if  adjustment  had  been,  for  the  moment,  secured, 
it  presently  turned,  with  the  inevitable  change  of  the  life- 
conditions,  into  maladjustment.  Of  a  consequence  it  was 
provided  that  life-theories  should  be  subject  to  correction 

just  as  it  is  provided  that  bodies  fall  toward  the  earth’s 
center. 

But  if  the  correction  of  error  is  provided  for,  then  it 
matters  little  what  you  start  with,  if  there  is  time  enough 


IX 


FOREWORD 


—  and  there  is  no  iack  of  that  when  it  comes  to  cosmic 
processes.  You  are  sure  to  work  out  toward  the  truth. 
Wherever  you  take  hold  of  the  social  fabric,  you  find  its 
strands,  dependable  enough  now,  running  back  into  a 
snarl  of  the  fantastic  and  irrational.  Out  of  this  un¬ 
promising  and  often  ridiculous  beginning  has  come  all 
that  we  now  value ;  and  without  those  beliefs  which  we 
wonder  at  as  we  reject  them,  but  which  spurred  our  fore¬ 
bears  to  an  activity  without  which  there  would  have 
been  no  observation  and  verification,  we  could  not  have 
been  where  we  now  are.  It  is  no  small  service  to  the 
race  to  demonstrate  that  truth  comes  out  of  the  auto¬ 
matic  correction  of  natural  error,  and  not  otherwise ;  for  it 
gives  a  true  perspective  of  human  life  and  a  clearer  under¬ 
standing  of  what  we  are  doing  and  can  do  to  live  better  in 
the  future.  It  is  also  possible,  in  the  light  of  such  know¬ 
ledge,  to  believe  that  the  process  will  never  end  while  men 

live  bn  earth.  Social  evolution  teaches  us  that  the  race  be¬ 
gan  in  destitution  and  error  and  has,  by  the  exercise  of 
its  own  powers,  and  not  by  outside  aid,  for  the  most  part 
unconciously,  worked  itself  up  to  what  we  now  prize  and 
call  culture  or  civilization.  There  is  no  more  reason  to 
believe  that  this  process  will  ever  stop  than  there  is  to 
believe  that  arbitrary  intervention  ever  interrupted  its 
course  in  the  past. 

This  is  the  broadest  generalization  to  be  derived  from 
studies  like  the  one  before  us;  and  it  represents  their 


x 


FOREWORD 


widest  human  interest.  Here  we  have  a  thorough  study 
of  an  outstanding  functionary  in  evolving  society — a 
complex  type  out  of  which  have  developed  numerous 
special  types  that  are  well-recognized  and  highly  valued 
social  assets  in  the  present.  Any  such  study,  when  well 
done,  contributes  strongly  to  our  understanding  of  the 
evolution  and  life  of  human  society. 

So  far  as  I  know,  there  exists  no  other  study  of 

of  the  shaman  which  compares,  at  the  same  time  in  fullness 
and  breadth  of  perspective,  with  that  of  Dr.  Maddox. 

He  has  carefully  given  due  credit  to  other  fine  monographs 
which  have  treated  the  subject  less  completely  or  from  a 
point  of  view  less  comprehensive.  Doubtless  a  number 
of  ethnographers,  from  their  field-experience,  know  the 
shamans  of  this  and  that  tribe  or  region  much  more 
intimately  than  is  possible  for  the  student  of  their  accounts ; 
but  there  are  few  field-observers  who  attain  the  perspective 
possible  to  the  worker  in  the  study  who  reviews  a  wide 
literature  and  applies  to  it  the  comparative  method.  What 
the  latter  loses  in  exactness  of  detail  he  more  than 
balances  by  the  sweep  of  his  survey. 

It  is  this  sort  of  study  that  is  most  needed  at  present 
for  the  upbuilding  of  a  science  of  society.  Here  is  a  book 
that  adequately  treats  a  very  important  chapter  in  social 
evolution,  it  is  in  line  with  the  best  modern  work,  and  I 
believe  that  the  industry  and  scientific  candor  of  the 
author  will  inspire  confidence.  Scientific  students  of  society 

XI 


FOREWORD 


will  now  have  at  their  service  a  treatise  which  will  not 
have  to  be  substantially  altered  for  a  long  time  to  come. 
And  many  a  general  reader  will  experience  much  enlight¬ 
enment  while  he  turns  the  following  pages. 

A.  G.  Keller,  Professor 

of  the  Science  of  Society 
in  Yale  University. 


xn 


PREFACE 


When  the  author  began  his  studies  in  the  social  sciences 
there  was  in  existence  no  adequate  treatment  of  the 
subject  with  which  this  book  is  concerned.  Surveys  of 
the  topic,  excellent  and  suggestive,  but  unsystematic,  had 
been  made  by  Herbert  Spencer  in  his  “Principles  of 
Sociology,”  by  Dr.  Max  Bartels  in  “Die  Medizin  der 
Naturvolker,”  by  the  late  Captain  John  G.  Bourke,  of 
the  United  States  Army,  in  “The  Medicine  Men  of  the 
Apache,”  and  by  others;  these  monographs,  moreover, 
were  written  some  years  ago.  It  was,  therefore,  with  the 
double  purpose  of  bringing  the  subject  abreast  of  the 
times,  and  of  treating  it  in  a  systematic  manner,  that 
the  substance  of  the  present  volume  was  written,  originally 
in  the  form  of  a  thesis  for  presentation  to  the  faculty 
of  Yale  University  in  partial  fulfilment  of  the  requirement 
for  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy. 

The  study  of  shamanism,  however,  pursued  in  the  pre¬ 
paration  of  the  dissertation,  proved  so  interesting,  that  the 
author  has  felt  constrained  to  devote  time,  not  occupied 
in  other  duties,  to  the  effort  to  develop  the  original 
survey  of  this  important  topic  in  a  manner  worthy  ot 
its  significance.  Many  helpful  criticisms  of  the  original 
thesis  in  the  meantime  have  been  received,  both  from  field 
experience  and  from  other  sources;  much  new  material 


xm 


PREFACE 


has  been  gathered;  the  matter,  both  new  and  old,  has 
been  rearranged;  and  the  following  book  is  the  result. 

It  is  a  pleasure,  in  presenting  this  study,  to  make 
acknowledgements  to  men  who  have  had  much  to  do  with 
its  production.  Thanks  are  especially  rendered  to  Pro¬ 
fessor  Albert  Galloway  Keller,  Professor  of  the  Science 
of  Society  in  Yale  University,  for  a  new  point  of  view 
regarding  the  science  of  society,  and  for  direction  of  effort 
along  lines  of  proper  research  in  the  fields  of  Anthropology 
and  Sociology  whereby  the  evolutionary  character  of  the 
activities  of  the  medicine  man  has  been  ascertained.  It 
was  fortunate,  furthermore,  for  the  writer  to  have  been 
able  to  work  for  a  short  time  with  the  late  Professor 
William  Graham  Sumner  of  Yale  University,  and  to  have 
caught  some  measure  of  his  inspiration.  After  his  death, 
through  the  kindness  of  Professor  Keller,  there  were  placed 
at  the  disposal  of  the  author  the  notes  and  references, 
which  had  been  collected  during  many  years  of 
labor  on  the  part  of  Professor  Sumner.  It  is  with  a  deep 
sense  of  gratitude  that  this  acknowledgement  is  made, 
since,  had  it  not  been  for  the  privilege  of  utilizing  the 
Sumnerian  collections,  much  of  what  follows  could  not 
have  been  written. 

Thanks  are  likewise  expressed  to  Dr.  Oliver  T.  Os¬ 
borne,  Professor  of  Therapeutics  and  the  History  of 
Medicine  in  Yale  University,  and  to  Professor  John  Uri 
Lloyd,  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  for  helpful  suggestions,  and 
for  material  bearing  on  the  history  of  drugs. 


XIV 


PREFACE 


The  author  would  finally  record  his  obligations  to 
Miss  Marjorie  Ward  of  Chicago,  Illinois,  for  helpful 
criticism  of  this  book  when  it  was  in  manuscript  form,  and 
to  Dr.  J.  B.  Clayton,  of  the  Bibliographical  Department 
of  the  Library  of  Congress,  for  his  generous  services  in 
superintending  the  checking  of  the  accuracy  of  the  re¬ 
ferences.  Owing  to  enforced  exile  from  the  vicinity  of  the 
great  libraries,  it  was  impossible  for  the  absentee  to  do  the 
work  which  Dr.  Clayton  so  cheerfully  undertook  and  so 
ably  performed. 

It  remains  to  be  said  that  it  was  the  original  purpose 
to  elaborate  a  treatise  on  “The  History  of  Medical 
Remedies,”  but  after  much  research  the  writer  has  found 
this  to  be  impossible,  owing  to  the  fact  it  has  never  been 
feasible  to  spend  two  or  three  years  in  residence  at  a 
library  especially  adapted  to  the  purpose.  It  is  his  hope, 
however,  at  some  future  time,  to  take  up  that  subject  in 
addition  to  a  study  of  the  medicine  man  in  his  capacity 
as  priest,  and  treat  both  topics  exhaustively  in  the 
manner  outlined  in  this  book,  making  use  of  the  present 
volume  as  a  background  and  initiation. 

J.  L.  M. 

At  Sea, 

November  15,  1921. 


xv 


CHAPTER  I 


INTRODUCTORY. 

Carl  Schurz,  while  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  said  of  Ouray, 
a  Ute  head  chief,  “‘He  is  the  most  intellectual  man  I  ever 
met!*”  1 

Savage  peoples,  although  they  lack  the  culture  of 
the  schools,  are  not  altogether  without  mental  equipment. 
Great  chiefs  appear  from  time  to  time,  who,  through  force 
of  intellect  and  character,  exercise  wonderful  influence 
and  control  over  the  members  of  their  tribes.  The  greatest 
man  of  primitive  times,  however,  is  not  the  chief,  but  the 
religious  leader.  He  frequently  takes  the  initiative  both  in 
civil  and  religious  affairs.  This  individual  is  the  leading 
and  successful  factor  among  all  savage  tribes  and  nations. 
And  yet  he  has  had  no  biographer.  Excellent  sketches 
have  been  written  dealing  with  one  or  more  phases  of  his 
activity,  in  one  or  more  particular  tribal  groups.  But 
hitherto  there  has  been  no  attempt  to  gather  accounts 
of  his  character,  methods,  and  functions  from  the  ethno¬ 
graphy  of  different  peoples,  living  in  different  parts  of 
the  world,  at  different  ages,  to  generalize  therefrom, 
and  thus  present  the  portraiture  of  a  strong  personage, 
who,  call  him  by  whatever  name  you  choose,  is  not  limited 

1  Munsey’s  Magazine,  April  1914,  p.  534. 


2  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


to  any  race  or  time,  but  is  the  dominant  element  of 
society  in  its  undeveloped  state  among  all  peoples  and 
at  all  times.  It  is  the  present  purpose,  therefore,  to  set 
forth  an  accurate  account  of  the  greatest  and  most  roman¬ 
tic  figure  of  savage  life,  with  the  intent  of  showing  that 
man,  wherever  found,  as  regards  religious  sentiments  and 
customs,  reacts  in  a  similar  manner  against  his  environ¬ 
ment;  and  that,  consequently,  the  conditions  which  pro¬ 
duced  the  medicine  man  among  the  North  American 
Indians,  produced  the  shaman  of  the  Yakuts,  the  mulogo 
of  the  Uganda  tribes,  the  ganga  of  the  Zulus,  and  the 
angakok  of  the  Eskimos — these  being  different  names 
describing  the  same  individual,  whose  characteristics, 
methods,  and  functions,  though  they  may  differ  in  detail, 
yet  on  the  whole  are  the  same  wherever  you  find  him. 

To  this  end  it  will  be  necessary  to  bring  the  back¬ 
ground  into  perspective.  Man  lives  under  a  three-fold 
environment.  The  physical  and  animal  world  affects  him 
in  his  search  for  food,  and  so  comprises  what  may  be  called 
the  natural  environment.  His  relations  with  his  fellow 
men  complicate  his  relation  to  his  natural  environment, 
and  constitute  the  social  environment.  The  world  of  ideas 
concerning  the  facts  and  experiences  of  life  complicates 
yet  more  his  relationship  to  the  other  two  environments. 
Among  primitive  peoples,  this  third  environment  is  com¬ 
posed  almost  entirely  of  the  notions  of  man  concerning 
ghosts  and  spirits,  and  may  be  called  the  imaginary  en¬ 
vironment.1 

1  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution,”  p.  260;  pp.  133  ff. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


3 


« 


Whence  came  the  idea  of  an  imaginary  environment? 
It  is  superfluous  to  say  that  primitive  man  was  overtaken 
by  the  ills  and  pains  of  life.  Before  man  became  man,  the 
earth  was  swept  by  hurricane,  tornado,  and  pestilence. 
Animals  sickened  and  died.  Ills  and  bad  luck  are  necessary 
concomitants  to  earthly  existence. 

Ability  to  reason  is  not  pronounced  in  the  animal 
world.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  therefore,  when  pain  and  death 
attacked  the  forms  of  life  below  the  human,  there  was 
nothing  for  the  unfit  to  do  but  succumb.  When  a  lion 
pounced  upon  a  deer,  the  deer  would  not  have  sufficient 
inventive  genius  to  defend  himself  by  means  of  twentieth 
century  methods.  When  a  wolf  was  smitten  with  disease, 
he  had  no  idea  that  the  way  to  preserve  life  is  to 

destroy  the  germs  of  disease.  And  so  the  only 

possible  event  under  the  circumstances  was  the  death 

of  the  unfit.  For  milleniums,  therefore,  plants  and 

animals  suffered  and  died  without  thought  or  question, 
thereby  making  room  for  superior  forms  of  life.  These 
superior  forms,  because  of  their  inability  to  adapt  them¬ 
selves  to  their  environment,  had,  in  turn,  to  submit  to  the 
inevitable,  and  thus  the  process  of  the  struggle  for  ex¬ 
istence  and  the  survival  of  the  fitter  continued. 

After  aeons  of  struggling,  suffering,  dying  and  sur¬ 
viving,  there  came  forth,  by  reason  of  some  alteration  in  the 
germ  plasm,  a  being  who  did  not  meekly,  uncomplainingly, 
and  without  question,  yield  to  the  claims  of  natural  selec¬ 
tion.  Who  was  this  highest  product  of  nature?  For  ages  he 
has  been  called  “Man.”  In  his  first  stages  of  existence, 


4 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


man  had  no  idea  of  the  law  of  causation.1  And  yet  he  was 
beginning  to  think,  else  he  would  not  have  been  man. 
What  awakened  his  reflective  powers?  The  ills  of  life,  to 
which  animals  had  submitted  without  interrogation.  “The 
minds  of  men  always  dwell  more  on  bad  luck.  They  accept 
ordinary  prosperity  as  a  matter  of  course.  Misfortunes 
arrest  their  attention  and  remain  in  their  memory.” 2 
When  failure,  loss,  and  calamity  overtake  an  individual  who 
is  capable  of  thinking,  there  are  three  possible  attitudes 
in  the  premises:  indifference,  agnosticism,  and  faith.  It 
is  impossible  for  man,  in  a  primitive  stage  of  culture,  to 
adopt  an  attitude  of  indifference  regarding  his  woes. 
Neither  can  the  savage  make  agnosticism  his  life  philo¬ 
sophy.  The  nature  man,  therefore,  has  recourse  to  the 
third  possible  expedient,  that  of  faith.  He  believes  his  mis¬ 
fortunes  to  be  due  to  agency;3  he  ascribes  his  bad  luck  to 
the  imaginary  environment.  It  is  characteristic  of  childish 
and  untutored  individuals  to  refer  phenomena  for  which 
they  are  unable  or  too  inert  to  give  a  satisfactory  reason  to 
the  aleatory  or  luck  element.*  And  the  imaginary  world 
of  ghosts  and  spirits  is  nothing  more  and  nothing  less 
than  the  personification  of  the  aleatory  or  luck  element. 

Primitive  man  arrives  at  the  conclusion  that  the  ills 
of  life  are  due  to  agency  by  the  simple  process  of 

1  Encyc.  Brit.,  Eleventh  Edition,  Vol.  II,  p.  6. 

2  Sumner,  “Folkways,”  p.  6. 

3  Sumner,  “Folkways,”  p.  7;  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  10. 

*  A  full  treatment  of  this  subject  by  Professor  A.  G.  Keller, 
of  Yale,  appeared  in  the  “Scientific  Monthly,”  for  February, 
1917,  pp.  145—150,  in  an  article  which  has  for  its  subject, 
“The  Luck  Element.” 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


5 


reasoning  from  the  known  to  the  unknown.  He  sees  his 
companion  done  to  death  by  falling  trees,  by  animals,  or 
by  human  agencies.  What,  then,  more  natural  than  that 
he  should  ascribe  all  deaths  to  agency?1  If  the  agents  are 
not  always  visible,  there  must  be  invisible  enemies, 
malicious  and  vindictive,  to  whom  suffering  and  death  are 
due. 

This  solution  of  the  problem  of  suffering  is  substan¬ 
tiated  by  dreams.  As  they  repose  in  sleep,  nature  people 
see  their  imperious  and  implacable  ancestors,  who  convey 
the  information  that  they  are  yet  alive,  and  even  more 
powerful  and  malevolent.2  They  punished  their  descend¬ 
ants  when  living.  They  do  the  same,  in  an  intensified 
degree,  after  death.  Hence  the  living  experience  loss  and 
pain. 

If  they  do  not  dream  of  inimical  ancestors,  primitive 
peoples  see  in  dreams  other  enemies,  now  gone  to  the 
spirit  world,  and  perceive  that  these  continue  their  hostile 
action.  When  the  dreamers  awake,  no  foe  is  near. 
They  then  recall  that  the  bodies  of  the  enemies  dreamed 
about  no  longer  exist. 

According  to  the  primitive  method  of  reasoning,  there¬ 
fore,  although  the  material  bodies  have  disintegrated,  the 
souls  of  these  enemies  must  still  be  alive  and  near  at  hand, 
and  hence  the  inevitable  causes  of  the  woes  of  the  per¬ 
sons  against  whom  they  vented  their  spite  before  death. 
And  so  in  the  imagination  of  savage  tribes  the  air  becomes 

1  Vide  pp.  14,  120,  167. 

2  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution,”  p.  60. 


6 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


peopled  with  spirits,  who  inhabit  a  world  similar  to  this 
earth.  Thus,  among  the  Ewe-speaking  peoples,  every¬ 
thing  in  the  next  world  is  the  same  as  in  this,  including 
mountains,  rivers,  trees,  animals,  men,  family  life,  and 
form  of  government.  People  in  the  other  world  carry  all 
their  physical  imperfections.1  Among  the  Zulus  the  ghosts 
of  the  dead  are  thought  to  be  friendly  or  hostile,  just  as 
they  were  before  death.2  The  Tshi-speaking  peoples  be¬ 
lieve  that  life  in  the  other  world  is  the  same  as  in  this, 
because  a  man  frequently  sees  in  dreams  the  images  of  the 
dead  who  appear,  in  dress  and  in  behavior,  precisely  as  in 
their  previous  life.3 

Granting  the  major  premise  of  nature  man  that  he 
is  at  all  times  surrounded  by  invisible  foes,  which  vent 
their  spite  at  every  opportunity,  a  person  has  a  philosophy 
of  life  to  which  he  can  turn  as  a  solution  for  every 
perplexity  and  difficulty.  Every  man  must  experience  mis¬ 
fortune.  The  savage  is  no  exception.  What  more  natural 
than  that  he  should  apply  his  life  philosophy,  and  ascribe 
the  occurrence  of  bad  luck  to  the  activity  of  the  malicious 
daimons  of  which  the  air  is  full! 

While  it  may  be  said  in  general  that  the  savage 
attributes  all  misfortune  to  ill-disposed  daimons,  it  is 
with  reference  to  the  occurrence  of  sickness  and  death 
that  the  application  of  the  daimonistic  theory  is  most 
apparent.  Everybody  conversant  with  the  ethnography 
of  primitive  peoples  knows  that,  even  in  the  most  remote 

1  Ellis,  “Ewe-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  107. 

2  Encyc.  Brit.  Eleventh  Edition,  Vol.  II,  p.  6. 

3  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  158. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


7 


times,  when  the  experience  of  disease  and  death  provoked 
the  question,  Who  did  this  to  us?  the  life  theory  of  the 
savage  furnished  the  ready  answer  that  these  ills  were  due 
to  the  baneful  or  ill-disposed  influence  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  imaginary  environment.1  The  language  in  which 
this  answer  would  be  clothed  might,  to  the  untrained 
thinker,  convey  a  quite  different  impression,  but  on  care¬ 
ful  interpretation  it  would  be  found  at  bottom  to  express 
no  other  meaning.2 

In  order  to  establish  beyond  question  the  explanation 

of  primitive  man  regarding  the  occurrence  of  bad  luck, 

especially  with  reference  to  sickness  and  death,  attention 

is  here  directed  to  the  various  ways  in  which  this  funda- 

* 

mental  idea  is  expressed  by  different  peoples  who  live 
or  have  lived  in  various  parts  of  the  earth. 

Among  some  tribal  groups  sickness  is  attributed 
to  the  influence  of  an  offended  ghost.  This  being, 
although  not  yet  a  god,  is  endowed  with  superhuman 
faculties,  by  which  it  may  benefit  or  harm  the  living. 
According  to  the  Finns,  the  souls  of  the  dead  waylay  men, 
in  order  to  kill  them  and  eat  their  hearts  and  livers.  The 
spirits  will  spare  not  even  their  nearest  relatives.  Smirnov 
tells  of  an  old  man  who,  in  dying,  cautioned  his  young 
wife  not  to  follow  his  body  to  the  grave  lest  his  ghost  de¬ 
vour  her.  When  she  disobeyed,  she  was  saved  only  by  pro¬ 
nouncing  the  name  of  God.3  Similar  is  the  belief  of  the 

1  Sumner,  “Folkways,”  p.  30. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  10. 

3  Smirnov,  “Congr&s  International  d’Archeologie  Prehistorique 
et  d’Anthropologie  de  Moscou”,  XI,  1893,  p.  316. 


8 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Australians  that  sickness  is  caused  by  a  ghost  that  is  eating 

the  liver  of  the  victim,1  and  the  belief  of  the  Tasmanians,  in 

the  case  of  gnawing  diseases,  that  the  one  who  is  ill  has,  by 

unknowingly  pronouncing  the  name  of  a  dead  man,  caused 

the  spirits  of  that  deceased  person  to  enter  his  body  and 

devour  his  vitals.2  So,  too,  the  Zulus  will  try  to  propitiate 

with  the  sacrifice  of  an  ox  the  dead  ancestor  of  whom  a 

sick  man  dreams,  and  who  must,  therefore,  be  the  cause  of 

his  trouble.3  Some  tribal  groups  of  Samoa  think  that  illness 

and  death  are  brought  about  by  souls  of  the  dead  that 

creep  into  the  heads  and  stomachs  of  the  living.4  And 

in  the  same  fashion,  the  Amazulu,  as  Callaway  writes, 

believe,  when  a  man  has  been  sick  for  a  long  time,  that 

he  is  “affected  by  the  dtongo/  or  affected  by  his  people 
* 

who  are  dead.”  5 

Another  phase  of  the  daimonistic  theory  of  sickness 
and  death  is  the  idea  that  these  misfortunes  are  due  to 
spirit  possession.  As  Spencer  has  shown,  nature  man  be¬ 
lieves,  that  during  dreams,  fainting-fits,  swoons,  trance, 
and  like  phenomena,  the  soul,  or  other  self,  is  temporarily 
absent  from  the  body,  hence  these  unusual  experiences.6 
The  Omahas,  for  example,  according  to  one  authority,  say, 
when  a  man  faints  and  recovers,  that  “he  died  [fainted] 
and  went  to  his  departed  kindred,  but  no  one  would  speak 
to  him,  so  he  was  obliged  to  return  to  life”  [to  recover 

1  Tylor,  “Anthropology,”  p.  354. 

2  Encyc.  Brit.  Ninth  Edition,  Vol.  VII,  p.  61. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Callaway,  “Religious  System  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  269. 

6  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  pp.  145—152. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


9 


consciousness].1  During  the  supposed  absence  of  the  soul, 
when  the  body  twitched  in  a  violent  manner,  and  the 
question  was  provoked,  Why  this  strange  behavior? 
primitive  man  gave  the  best  answer  he  could.  He  had  no 
idea  that  a  mere  subjective  state,  or  a  deranged  digestion, 
or  a  disordered  condition  of  the  nerves  could  produce 
such  an  effect.  He  brought  his  world  philosophy  to  bear 
upon  the  situation,  and  accounted  for  the  phenomena  by 
affirming  that,  while  the  soul  of  the  unfortunate  person 
was  away,  one  of  the  many  inhabitants  of  the  imaginary 
environment  had  usurped  possession  of  the  body. 

If  it  is  within  the  range  of  possibility  for  the  soul  not 
only  to  absent  itself  from  the  body,  but  also  to  re-enter  it, 
as,  for  example,  in  dreams,  likewise  it  must  be  possible 
for  another  spirit  to  enter  the  body,  torture  it,  make  it 
sick,  and  do  it  even  to  death.  In  cases  of  falling  sickness, 
when  the  patient  fell  to  the  earth,  foamed  at  the  mouth,  bit 
his  tongue  until  the  blood  flowed,  and  his  legs  and  arms 
were  torn  with  convulsions,  the  best  reason  that  the  savage 
could  give  for  such  behavior  was  that  the  unfortunate  in¬ 
dividual  was  possessed  by  another  spirit.  His  own  spirit 
would  not  treat  his  body  in  such  an  outrageous  manner.  One 
or  more  of  those  malevolent  beings,  therefore,  whose  name 
is  legion,  and  who  are  ubiquitous,  must  have  taken 
possession  of  the  luckless  individual,  either  to  punish  for 
misdemeanors,  or  maliciously  to  cause  all  the  suffering 
possible.  Tylor  notes  that  “the  history  of  medicine  goes 
back  to  the  times  when  epilepsy,  or  ‘seizure'  [Greek, 

1  Fletcher-Laflesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p.  589. 


10 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


£7t&Y]cks]  was  thought  to  be  really  the  act  of  a  daimon 
seizing  and  convulsing  the  patient.”  1  The  prevalence  of 
this  disease  in  East  Africa  is  believed  by  some  writers  to  be 
responsible  for  the  origin  of  the  daimonistic  possession 
theory.2 

Primitive  peoples  explain  insanity  in  a  similar  manner. 
Any  person  who  observes  the  symptoms  ,and  conduct  of 
an  insane  man,  acting  no  longer  like  himself,  seeing  with 
other  eyes,  and  hearing  with  ears  other  than  has  been  his 
wont,  will  readily  comprehend  that  to  the  childish  mind 
of  the  savage,  the  most  natural  way  of  accounting  for 
such  phenomena  is  that  of  possession  by  a  vicious  spirit. 
And  so  it  is  said  that  the  Samoans  and  Togans 
believe  madness  to  be  caused  by  the  presence  of  an  evil 
spirit.3  In  Sumatra  lunatics  are  considered  possessed.4 

When  one  adds  to  these  considerations  the  fact  that  an 
insane  person  sometimes  manifests  almost  superhuman 
strength — being  able,  of  and  by  himself,  to  defy  the  efforts 
of  three  or  four  strong  men  to  manage  him — the  in¬ 
ference  is  plain  that  the  unlettered  and  untutored  savage 
must  draw  upon  his  philosophy  of  life  for  explanation, 
and  believe  that  a  daimon  of  power  and  might  possesses 
the  body  of  the  ill-fated  victim  of  insanity.5 

Reasoning  from  the  greater  to  the  lesser,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  understand  that,  since  the  savage  conceives 

extraordinary  mental  and  physical  disorders  to  be  due  to 

1  Tylor,  “Anthropology,”  p.  15. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  227. 

3  Turner,  “Nineteen  Years  in  Polynesia,”  p.  221. 

4  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  230. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  231.  w 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


11 


daimon  possession,  he  must  consider  disorders  of  a  less 
violent,  though  not  less  fatal  kind,  to  be  likewise  occasioned. 
In  fever,  both  physical  and  mental  disturbances  are 
present.  According  to  primitive  belief,  both  are  due  to 
the  same  cause.  Since  malicious  spirits  are  responsible  for 
one  kind  of  sickness,  it  follows  that  in  all  diseases  an 
ill-disposed  daimon  has  taken  possession  of  the  body, 
venting  rage,  wreaking  revenge,  or  inflicting  punishment 
upon  its  temporary  habitat.1  Thus,  as  already  alluded  to 
(p.  8  supra),  in  the  Australian-Tasmanian  district, 
disease  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  daimons 

creep  into  bodies  of  men  and  eat  up  their  livers.2 
Among  the  Dyaks,  every  kind  of  sickness  is  thought 
to  be  due  to  spirit  possession.  When  they  inquire 
of  a  small-pox  victim  concerning  the  state  of  his 

health,  they  ask,  “Has  he”  [that  is,  the  spirit]  “left  you 
yet?”3  After  an  attack  of  illness,  the  Dyaks  change  their 
names,  so  that  the  daimon  who  caused  the  sickness  may 
not  recognize  them  and  continue  his  malignant  invasions.4 
Among  the  Patagonians,  every  disease  is  believed 

to  be  due  to  spirit  possession.5  To  the  Negritos 

of  Zambales,  Philippine  Islands,  all  places  are  filled 
with  spirits,  which  bring  about  every  sort  of  adversity 
— failure  of  crops,  bad  luck  in  hunting,  and  ill¬ 
ness.  Before  disease  can  be  cured,  the  spirit  that  has 

caused  it  must  be  forced  out  of  the  body  of  the  sick 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  231. 

2  Grey,  “Journal  of  Two  Expeditions  of  Discovery  in  Australia,” 
II,  p.  337. 

3  St.  John,  “Life  in  the  Forests  of  the  Far  East,”  I,  p.  62. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  73.  5  D’Orbigny,  “L’Homme  Americain,”  p.  93. 


12 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


man.1  The  Dakotas,  according  to  Schoolcraft,  think  that 
spirits  inflict  punishment  for  misconduct.  These  beings 
are  able  to  send  the  spirit  of  a  bear,  deer,  turtle,  fish, 
tree,  stone,  or  dead  person  into  the  bodies  of  the  living, 
thereby  causing  disease.  The  method  of  the  medicine  man 
as  to  treatment  consists  in  the  recital  of  charms,  and  suc¬ 
tion  applied  to  the  seat  of  the  pain  to  draw  out  the  spirit.2 
In  the  West  Indies,  at  the  time  of  the  discovery  of  America, 
a  native  medicine  man  affected  to  extract  the  disease 
daimon  from  the  legs  of  his  patients,  and  to  consign  it 
to  the  mountains  or  to  the  sea.3  In  Egypt,  at  the  present 
time,  one  must  always  get  permission  of  the  “jinn”  or 
spirit  to  pour  water  on  the  ground,  lest  he  accidentally 
douse  a  daimon  and  be  smitten  with  sickness  for  the 
offence.4  The  Land  Dyaks  believe  that  spirits  cause  sick¬ 
ness  by  wounding  their  victims  with  invisible  spears.5 
Among  the  Matira,  all  sorts  of  maladies  are  thought  to 
be  caused  by  spirits.6  Among  the  Arawaks,  pain  is  called 
“the  arrow  of  the  evil  spirit.” 7  In  New  Zealand,  it  is 
believed  that  different  daimons  share  amongst  themselves 
the  body  of  man,  and  that  each  daimon  undertakes  to  inflict 
pain  upon  the  part  committed  to  him.8  In  Cockayne’s 
“Saxon  Leechdoms”  is  the  following  instruction:  “Against 
a  strange  (or  unnatural)  swelling,  sing  upon  thy  leech  finger 

1  Reed,  “Negritos  of  Zambales,”  p.  65. 

2  Schoolcraft,  “Information  Respecting  the  Indian  Tribes  of  the 
United  States,”  Part  I,  p.  250;  Part  II,  p.  179. 

3  Pinkerton,  “Voyages,”  XII,  p.  85. 

4  Encyc.  Brit.,  Eleventh  Edition,  Vol.  VIII,  p.  5. 

5  St.  John,  “Life  in  the  Forests  of  the  Far  East,”  I,  p.  178. 

6  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  II,  p.  126. 

7  Brett,  “Indian  Tribes  of  Guiana,”  p.  362. 

8  Black,  “Folk  Medicine,”  p.  11. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


13 


(third  finger)  a  paternoster,  and  draw  a  line  about  the 
sore,  and  say,  ‘Fuge,  diabolus,  Christus  te  sequitur;  quando 
natus  est  Christus,  fugit  dolor;'  and  afterwards  say 
another  paternoster,  and — ‘Fuge,  diabolus.'"1 

A  common  aspect  of  the  spirit  notion  about  disease  is 
that  a  daimon  may  steal  away  the  breath,  causing  the 
body  when  separated  from  the  soul  to  sicken  and  die.  It 
has  already  been  explained  that  fainting  fits  and  trance 
are  accounted  for  by  the  supposed  absence  of  the  soul 
from  the  body.2  In  some  cases,  weakness,  failure  in  health, 
and  death  are  likewise  explained.  Thus,  among  the  Fijians, 
“when  anyone  faints  or  dies,  his  spirit,  it  is  said,  may 
sometimes  be  brought  back  by  calling  after  it;  and  oc¬ 
casionally  the  ludicrous  scene  is  witnessed  of  a  stout 
man  lying  at  full  length,  and  bawling  out  lustily  for  the 
return  of  his  own  soul."  3  In  the  Moluccas,  when  a  man 
is  sick,  the  belief  is  that  some  daimon  has  carried  away 
his  soul  to  hell  where  the  daimon  resides.4  When  a  Karen 
becomes  sick,  languid,  and  pining  because  his  soul  [la] 
has  left  him,  his  friends  with  formal  prayers  invoke  the 
spirit  to  return.5  In  civilized  America,  sermons  have  been 
preached,  within  the  last  twenty-five  years,  from  the 
alleged  Scriptural  text:  “The  first  death  is  the  separation 
of  the  soul  from  the  body;  the  second  death  is  the  separa¬ 
tion  of  the  soul  from  God." 

Another  feature  of  the  ghost  theory  is  that  disease 
and  death  can  be  invoked  by  magic,  sorcery,  or  witchcraft. 

1  Cockayne,  “Saxon  Leechdoms,”  I,  p.  394.  2  Vide  pp.  8 — 9. 
3  Williams,  “Fiji  and  the  Fijians,”  I,  p.  242.  4  Frazer,  “The 
Golden  Bough,”  I,  p.  271.  5  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  I,  p.  395. 


14 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


According  to  this  notion,  the  medicine  man  secures  the 
assistance  of  divinities  to  accomplish  his  evil  purpose,  or 
controls  the  spirits  in  such  a  way  as  either  to  revenge 
himself  on  enemies,  or  to  punish  those  guilty  of  insub¬ 
ordination.1  In  order  to  make  more  clear  the  primitive 
idea  of  the  power  of  the  medicine  man  as  magician  to  work 
harm,  the  following  cases  are  cited.  The  Australians  ascribe 
sickness  to  the  invisible  projection  into  the  body  of 
substances  such  as  quartz  crystals  ;2  the  Omahas,  to 
the  projection  of  worms,  removable  only  by  magic 
formulas.3  In  Samoa,  every  dangerous  sickness,  every 
accident,  and  every  death  was  ascribed  to  sorcery ; 
and  not  infrequently  suspected  persons  were  murdered, 
because  it  was  thought  that  they  had  inflicted  injuries 
on  other  individuals.4  To  the  Cherokees  disease 
and  death  are  caused  by  malign  influence,  whether 
of  witches,  the  spirits  of  animals,  or  the  ghosts 
of  the  departed.  Haywood,  writing  in  1823,  states: 
“‘In  ancient  times  the  Cherokees  had  no  conception 
of  anyone  dying  a  natural  death.5  They  universally 
ascribed  the  death  of  those  who  perished  by  disease  to 
the  intervention  or  agency  of  evil  spirits  and  witches  and 
conjurors,  who  had  connexion  with  the  Shina  (Anisgi’na) 
or  evil  spirit . A  person  dying  by  disease  and  charg¬ 

ing  his  death  to  have  been  procured  by  means  of  witch¬ 
craft  or  spirits,  at  the  instigation  of  any  other  person,  con- 

1  Lehmann,  “Aberglaube  und  Zauberei,”  pp.  21 — 22. 

2  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  26. 

3  Fletcher-Laflesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p.  583. 

4  Ella,  “Samoa,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  638. 

5  Vide  pp.  4—5,  120,  167. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


15 


signed  that  person  to  inevitable  death. 1  In  some  tribal 
groups,  it  is  believed  that  if  the  magician  gets  possession 
of  anything  belonging  to  a  man— nail-parings,  hair,  spittle, 
a  drop  of  blood — he  can  inflict  on  the  owner  any  evil 
he  chooses.  Thus,  regarding  the  Amazulu,  Callaway 
writes,  “Sorcerers  are  supposed  to  destroy  their  vic¬ 
tims  by  taking  some  portion  of  ,  their  bodies,  as  hair 
or  nails,  or  something  that  has  been  worn  next 
to  their  person,  as  a  piece  of  old  garment,  and  adding 
to  it  certain  medicines,  and  then  burning  the  whole  in 
a  secret  place. ” 2  Frazer  says  that  “an  Australian  girl, 
sick  of  fever,  laid  the  blame  of  her  illness  on  a  young 
man  who  had  come  behind  her,  and  cut  off  a  lock  of  her 
hair;  she  was  sure  he  had  buried  it  and  it  was  rotting.”  3 
The  Tannese  think  that  the  burning  of  the  “nahak” — or 
rubbish,  such  as  refuse  of  food — will  cause  sickness  or 
death,  and  they  are,  therefore,  careful  always  to  bury 
their  “nahak”  or  throw  it  into  the  sea,  so  that  it  may  not 
fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies.4  The  sorcerers  in  the 
Marquesan  Islands  were  thought  to  be  able  to  destroy 
a  victim  by  burying  his  hair,  spittle,  or  bodily  refuse,5 
and  the  magicians  of  ancient  Peru,  it  was  imagined,  could 
injure  people  by  working  hocus  pocus  on  blood  taken 
from  them.6 

There  is  a  belief  among  some  primitive  peoples  that 

if  a  sorcerer  learns  the  name  of  a  person,  he  can  bring 

1  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  theCherokees,”  Bur. Eth.,  1891, p.322. 

2  Callaway,  “Religious  System  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  270. 

3  Frazer,  “The  Golden  Bough,”  I,  p.  377. 

4  Turner,  “Nineteen  Years  in  Polynesia,”  pp.  89  —  91. 

5  Frazer,  “The  Golden  Bough,”  I,  p.  376. 

6  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  246. 


16 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


upon  that  individual  all  sorts  of  evil.  The  Celts  and  other 
Aryans  thought  that  the  name  is  not  only  a  part  of  a 
man,  but  the  most  vital  part — his  soul  or  life.1  The 
Australians,  too,  because  of  this  alleged  identification  of 
the  name  with  the  soul,  think  that  an  enemy  who  knows 
the  name  of  a  person  has  power  to  harm  him.2 

The  dread  of  the  power  of  the  magician  is  responsible 
for  some  curious  notions  in  Australia.  Several  tribes 
believe  that  wizards  can,  while  a  man  is  asleep,  remove 
the  caul-fat  from  under  his  short  rib,  causing  him 
no  pain,  but  effecting  his  speedy  death.3  Men  in  the 
Kernai  tribe  have  died  in  the  belief  that  an  evil  power 
had  stolen  this  fat  despite  the  fact  that  no  marks  were  to 
be  found  on  their  bodies.4  Here  the  fat,  like  the  name, 
is  apparently  identified  with  the  soul;  hence  the  notion 
that  by  removing  the  fat  the  medicine  man  also  removes 
the  soul  from  the  body,  which  circumstance,  as  has  already 
been  seen,  is  held  to  account  for  sickness  and  death.5 

There  are  primitive  notions  regarding  the  causes  of 
misfortunes  and  calamities,  sickness  and  death,  which  it  is 
well  nigh  impossible  to  classify.  Yet  it  is  not  difficult  to 
perceive  that  the  ghost  theory  underlies  each  of  them. 
When  the  author  resided  in  the  Philippine  Islands  he 
learned  that  the  Visayans,  fearful,  lest  the  “asuangs” 
[spirits]  should  creep  into  houses  and  destroy  newly  born 
babes,  are  accustomed  to  smear  the  doors  and  windows 
of  their  dwellings  with  garlic  for  those  invisible  enemies 

1  Rhys,  “Welsh  Fairies,”  Nineteenth  Century,  XXX,  pp.  568  ff. 

2  Howilt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  27  (Note). 

3  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  17.  4  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine 
Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  pp.  53—55.  5  Vide  p.  13. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


17 


cannot  abide  its  smell.  It  is  held  by  some  nature 
people  that  an  animal,  or  the  spirit  of  an  animal, 
can  enter  the  body  of  a  man  and  affect  it  for  evil;1 
others  say  that  bad  winds  are  causes  of  sickness ; 2  others, 
water  sprites;  others,  the  influence  of  charms;  others,  the 
infringement  of  the  taboo ;  still  others,  the  withering 
glance  of  the  “evil  eye,” 3  and  so  on  through  a  well 
nigh  inexhaustible  list. 

If  “supernatural  agent”  or  “agents”  be  substituted  for 
“daimon”  or  “daimons,”  it  is  evident  that  the  spirit  theory 
of  “bad  luck,”  in  general,  survives  in  semi-civilized  and  even 
in  civilized  times.4  In  ancient  Chaldea,  all  diseases  were 
accredited  to  the  influence  of  daimons.  That  is  the 
reason  for  Herodotus  finding  no>  physicians  in  Babylon 
and  Assyria.  There  was  nothing  scientific  about  the  medi¬ 
cine  of  those  ancient  peoples ;  “it  was,”  as  Lenormant  has 
said,  “simply  a  branch  of  magic,  and  was  practiced  by 
incantations,  exorcisms,  the  use  of  philters,  and  enchanted 
drinks.”5  In  Exodus,  15:28,  Javeh  is  declared  to  visit 
men  with  adversity  for  breach  of  his  commandments.  In 
the  first  book  of  the  Iliad,  all  are  represented  as  sick  be¬ 
cause  the  daughter  of  the  priest  of  Apollo  had  been  stolen. 
The  god  has  sent  sickness  from  the  motive  of  revenge.6 
In  India,  the  goddess  of  small-pox,  “Ma-ry-Umma,”  is 
supposed  to  incarnate  herself  in  the  disease.  When  vac¬ 
cination  was  first  introduced  among  the  natives  of  India 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvQlker,”  pp.  21 — 22.  2  Ibid.,  pp.  41 — 42. 
3  Ibid.,  pp.  43  —  44.  4  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,’’  I, 

p.  232.  5  Lenormant,  “Chaldean  Magic,”  p.  35.  6  Keller, 

“Homeric  Society,”  p.  180. 


18  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


they  objected  on  the  ground  that  the  deity  might  be  offended, 
since  for  people  to  render  themselves  immune  to  small¬ 
pox  would  imply  an  objection  to  her  becoming  incarnate 
among  them.1  Among  the  Tartars,  all  sickness  is  caused 
by  a  visitation  of  a  “Tchutgour”  or  daimon,  and  the 
first  duty  of  the  physician  is  to  exorcise  the  daimon.2 
Pythagoras  taught  that  the  air  was  full  of  spirits,  which 
were  responsible  for  disease  and  death.3  Among  the 
Romans,  the  Laws  of  the  Twelve  Tables  contained  the 
provision  that  no  man  should  by  incantation  conjure 
away  the  crop  of  grain  of  another  person.4  The  ancient 
Britons,  thinking  that  all  diseases  proceeded  from  the 
wrath  of  the  gods,  found  their  only  help  in  beseeching  the 
priests  to  intercede  for  them.5 

Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  belief  in  daimons,  witch¬ 
craft,  and  supernatural  agents  as  disease  provokers 
abounded.  John  of  Gaddeson  (dr.  1290),  an  Oxford  man, 
and  a  court  physician,  for  example,  prescribed  for  epilepsy 
that  the  patient,  after  fasting,  confession,  attendance  at 
mass,  and  after  special  prayers  by  the  priest,  wear  around 
his  neck  the  text  of  Scripture,  “This  kind  goeth  not  out 
but  by  prayer  and  fasting.”  6 

The  ravages  of  syphilis,  which  swept  over  Europe 
towards  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth  century,  were 
considered  a  scourge  used  by  God  to  punish  men  and  turn 

them  away  from  unrighteous  living.7 

1  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I.  p.  32.  2  Hue,  “Travels  in  Tartary,” 
I,  pp.  75  —  76.  3  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  162.  4  Encyc.  Brit., 
Article,  “Witchcraft,”  Ninth  Edition,  Vol.  XXIV,  p.  619.  5  Struti, 
“Chronicles  of  England,”  I,  p.279.  6  Berdoe, “  Healing  Art,”  p.237. 
7  Roswell  Park,  “An  Epitome  of  the  History  of  Medicine,”  p.  136. 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


19 


Aubrey  records  a  favorite  remedy  which  was  used 
in  the  sixteenth  century  for  sweating  sickness.  “Say 
every  day,  at  seven  parts  of  your  body,  seven  pater¬ 
nosters,  and  seven  Ave  Marias,  with  one  Credo  at 
the  last.” 1  Here  the  ghost  theory  is  clearly  implied,  for 
supernatural  aid  is  sought  as  a  means  of  recovery.  In  1604, 
a  law  of  the  English  Church  forbade  the  clergy  to  cast  out 
devils  without  a  special  license  from  the  bishop ; 2  and 
the  belief  that  people  were  possessed  by  evil  spirits 
continued  far  into  the  eighteenth  century.  That  the  dai- 
monistic  theory  prevailed  in  America  throughout  the 
entire  colonial  period,  the  hanging  of  alleged  witches  in 
Salem,  Massachusetts,  in  1692,  is  but  one  of  many  proofs. 
Even  today,  misfortune,  sickness,  and  death  are  often 
ascribed  to  spirit  agency.  Peters  writes:  “An  eminent 
professor  of  medical  jurisprudence  in  an  American  college, 
in  October  1888,  publicly  stated  that  insanity  of  the  sexual 
perversion  type  was  an  evidence  of  possession  of  the 
devil.”  3  Not  infrequently  the  belief  is  expressed  that  people 
who  are  killed  while  on  Sunday  excursions  or  boating 
trips  meet  their  deaths  as  a  result  of  divine  vengeance  for 
breaking  the  Sabbath,  and  this  belief  has  only  an  altered 
idea  of  the  supernatural  being  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
superstitions  of  savage  tribes.4 

The  present  day  theory  of  disease  is  that  of  the  in¬ 
vasion  of  the  body  by  devils — that  is  adversaries — or 

1  Aubrey,  “History  of  England,”  II,  p.  296. 

2  Lee,  “Glimpses  of  the  Supernatural,”  I,  p.  65. 

3  Peters,  “Pictorial  Pharmacy,”  p.  128 

4  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  234. 


3* 


20 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


germs  of  animal  and  vegetable  rather  than  of  supernatural 
origin,  not  necessarily  with  any  malicious  intent,  but 
driven  by  nature  to  seek  for  substance  whereby  to  repair 
waste  energy.  Various  ways  of  access  to  the  usurped 
abode  are  utilized  by  these  parasites — the  water  drunk, 
the  food  eaten,  the  air  breathed,  and  the  proboscides  of 
insects.  It  remains  for  future  generations  to  discover 
exactly  how  far  on  the  road  to  truth  the  theory  of  the 
twentieth  century  has  advanced  beyond  that  of  the  savage. 

SUMMARY.  Man,  the  reasoning  and  speaking  animal, 
reacted  differently  from  all  other  forms  of  life 
against  a  similar  environment,  and  was  led  by  the 
ills  of  existence  to  reflection.  In  some  cases  the 
agent  of  his  woes  was  visible — the  falling  tree, 
or  the  club  of  an  enemy.  Reasoning  from  analogy, 
nature  man  believed  himself  to  be  justified  in 
assuming  that  all  calamities  were  due  to  agency.  The  agents 
being  in  many  cases  invisible  did  not  alter  the  fact. 
This  opinion  was  re-affirmed  by  dreams,  in  which  an 
implacable  ancestor  or  an  inveterate  enemy  assured  the 
sleeper  that  the  relationship  between  them  had  not  been 
changed  by  death.  Man  thus  arrived  at  the  idea  of  another 
world,  which  in  every  respect  duplicates  the  present  world. 
The  savage,  in  other  words,  constructed  in  his  own 
mind  the  idea  of  an  imaginary  environment,  the  inhabitants 
of  which  are  the  ghosts  and  spirits  of  the  dead.  These 
spiritual  beings  possess  the  same  dispositions,  passions,  and 
animosities  as  when  living.  To  the  ghostly  inhabitants 


CH.  I 


INTRODUCTORY 


21 


of  the  other  world  nature  man  refers  the  agency  of  “bad 
luck.”  In  order  to  present  in  a  concrete  manner  the 
primitive  explanation  of  “bad  luck”  in  general,  a  typical 
example  was  taken,  that  particular  form  of  misfortune 
about  which,  more  than  any  other,  men  have  thought, 
theorized,  and  speculated,  namely,  the  existence  of  disease 
and  death.  It  was  found,  on  the  whole,  that  the  primitive 
theory  of  sickness  and  death  is  that  of  spirit  possession. 
This  belief  takes  a  variety  of  forms.  In  some  cases  the 
evil  is  ascribed  to  the  ghosts  of  the  dead.  In  other  in¬ 
stances  a  fully  developed  spiritual  being  is  thought  to  have 
taken  up  its  abode  in  the  body  of  the  victim  for  the 
purpose  of  tormenting  him;  in  others  still  it  is  imagined 
that  a  sorcerer  has  subsidized  a  malignant  spirit  to  work 
his  evil  purposes ;  and,  once  more,  the  “evil  eye,”  the  spirit 
of  an  animal,  the  entrance  of  bones,  pebbles,  splinters,  or 
quartz  crystals  into  the  body  are  believed  to  be  respons¬ 
ible  for  the  destruction  of  life.  The  ghost  theory  sur¬ 
vived  throughout  barbaric  and  far  into  civilized  times. 
It  is  not  entirely  extinct  at  the  present  day. 

Primitive  notions  regarding  other-worldliness,  the 
imaginary  environment,  and  the  aleatory  element  have  been 
discussed  somewhat  at  length  for  the  reason  that  it  would 
not  be  possible  to  understand  the  character  and  evolution 
of  shamanism  without  first  bringing  the  background  into 
perspective.  Given  this  proper  foundation,  however, 
the  religion  of  primitive  peoples,  as  well  as  the  nature, 
evolution,  and  social  influence  of  the  medicine  man  can  be 
readily  comprehended. 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN. 

It  was  pointed  out  in  the  preceding  chapter  that  when 
pain  and  misfortune  were  experienced  by  primitive  man, 
and  the  question  provoked,  Who  did  this?  his  philo¬ 
sophy  of  life  furnished  the  ready  answer  that  he  might 
thank  the  malevolent  inhabitants  of  the  unseen  world  for 
his  ills,  woes,  and  losses.  Childish  as  such  an  explanation 
may  appear,  it  furnished  the  starting-point  for  systematic 
thinking. 

The  second  question  provoked  by  painful  experience 
was,  Why  are  the  gods  angry,  and  what  must  be  done 
to  induce  them  to  cease  their  inimical  actions?  The  life 
philosophy  of  the  savage  here  again  supplied  the  “proper” 
answer.1 

If  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  in  primitive  thought  the 
unseen  world  duplicates  this  world;  that  its  inhabitants 
live  as  men  live  here;  that  they  have  the  same  wants, 
likes,  and  dislikes;  that,  in  short,  they  are  anthropomor¬ 
phic  beings  possessing  in  an  intensified  degree  the  same 
attributes  as  before  their  deification,2  it  will  not  be  difficult 
to  understand  that  the  various  ways  of  dealing  with  the 
inhabitants  of  the  imaginary  environment,  though  they  vary 

1  Sumner,  “Folkways,”  pp.  30—31. 

2  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution,”  p.  60,  and  p.  260;  also,  cf.  pp.  5 — 6 
of  this  work. 


ch.  ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  23 


according  to  the  conception  entertained  by  the  weaker 
contestant  respecting  the  nature  and  character  of  his  ad¬ 
versary,  are  analogous  to  methods  of  dealing  between  man 
and  man.1 

Since  ghosts  and  spirits  are  first  conceived  of  as 
assuming  an  hostile  attitude  toward  man,2  it  naturally 
follows  that  ways  first  adopted  of  dealing  with  them  are 
identical  with  methods  of  dealing  with  mundane  foes. 
When  an  enemy  in  the  form  of  flesh  and  blood  occasions 
trouble  and  disaster  by  reason  of  his  rancorous  conduct, 
the  natural  thing  is  to  combat  him.  In  like  manner, 
when  a  malevolent  spirit  is  responsible  for  misfortune, 
the  normal  course  of  procedure  is  to  attempt  to  compel  the 
spiritual  enemy  to  cease  its  hostile  attacks.  And  so  it 
happens  that  various  methods  of  exorcism  are  devised. 
In  sickness,  for  example,  nature  man  tries  to  frighten  the 
daimon  of  disease  by  horrible  noises,  by  threats  and 
grimaces ;  or  to  disgust  it  by  making  the  body  a 
disagreeable  habitat  by  means  of  fumigation  or  violent  ill- 
treatment;  or  to  expel  it  by  the  use  of  amulets  and 
charms  or  by  the  recital  of  incantations.  But  the  ordinary 
individual  distrusts  his  ability,  single-handed  and  alone, 
to  deal  with  the  superior  powers  of  the  unseen  world. 
The  consequence  is  that  generally  he  will  delegate  this 
task  to  some  person  possessed  of  greater  wisdom, 
knowledge,  and  power.  And  among  savage  peoples,  the 
man  who  gains  repute  for  dealing  successfully  with 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  38. 

2  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  I.  pp.  108  ff. 


24  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


ghosts  and  spirits  is  an  important  personage.  Sumner 
in  support  of  what  has  just  been  said  quotes  the  following 
striking  passage  from  Michailowski:  “Uncivilized  people, 
who  live  under  the  immediate  influence  of  nature  and  of 
blind  chance,  are  interested  above  all  in  the  means  of 
escaping  evil  fortune  and  propitiating  the  forces  of  evil. 
They  want  protection  from  drought,  lightning,  storm,  dis¬ 
ease,  death,  and  enemies.  Not  all  can  attain  the  means  of 
winning  good,  and  averting  ill.  Some  persons  are  endowed 
with  the  requisite  knowledge,  and  are  thus  fitted  to  be  inter¬ 
cessors  between  their  fellow  men  and  the  unknown  powers. 
These  are  the  shamans  and  their  art  is  shamanism.  The 
more  developed  the  people  the  better  defined  is  the  posi¬ 
tion  of  the  shamans,  and  the  more  systematic  is  the  organ¬ 
ization  of  shamanism.  Although  the  system  thus  covers 
a  wide  range  of  civilization,  yet  the  philosophy  of  life  in¬ 
cluded  in  it  has  broad,  common  features.” 1 

The  name  of  the  mediator  between  gods  and  men 
differs  among  different  peoples.  He  is  variously  called  the 
shaman,  the  angakok,  the  voudoo-man,  the  obi-man,  the  con¬ 
jurer,  the  magician,  the  wizard,  and  the  sorcerer,  — to  men¬ 
tion  only  a  few  of  his  many  titles.  For  the  sake  of  simplicity 
and  clearness,  however,  he  is  here  called  “The  Medicine 
Man.”  That  was  the  appellation  employed  by  the  North 
American  Indians  to  designate  the  representative  of  the 
unseen  world,  and  it  signifies  “Mystery  Man.”  In  the  life 
and  thought  of  the  aborigines  of  this  country,  anything 

1  Michailowski,  “Shamanstvo,”  (Russian)  Quoted  from  the 
Sumnerian  Collections. 


ch.  h  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  25 


sacred,  mysterious,  or  of  wonderful  power  or  efficacy  is 
called  “medicine”.  “Medicine,”  therefore,  in  the  savage 
sense  includes  clairvoyance,  ecstasism,  spiritism,  divination, 
demonology,  prophecy,  necromancy,  and  all  things  in¬ 
comprehensible.  Hence  the  medicine  man  is  not  only  the 
primitive  doctor,  but  he  is  the  diviner,  the  rain-maker,  the 
soothsayer,  the  prophet,  the  priest,  and,  in  some  in¬ 
stances,  the  chief  or  king.1  He  is  in  short  the  great  man 
of  primitive  times. 

Who  is  this  important  individual?  What  are  his  quali¬ 
fications,  and  what  is  his  training  for  office?  What  are  the 
secrets  of  his  power?  What  forces  unite  in  his  making? 
What  is  the  method  of  his  induction  into  office?  These 
and  similar  questions  suggest  themselves  in  connexion 
with  the  present  study,  and  apposite  answers  are  necessary 
to  an  intelligent  comprehension  of  shamanism. 

In  discussing  the  making  of  the  medicine  man,  it  may 
be  set  down,  in  the  first  place,  that  in  a  goodly  number 
of  instances  his  office  comes  to  him  by  heredity.  This  is  true 
of  the  Zulus  and  Bechuanas  of  South  Africa ; 2  of  the  Nez 
Perces,  the  Cayuse,  the  Walla  Wallas,  and  the  Wascows, 
in  America;  and  of  some  of  the  peoples  of  Siberia.3 
Among  the  Omahas,  those  who  imparted  ,  religious 
instructions  to  the  tribe  formed  a  sort  of  hereditary 
priesthood,  since  this  office  devolved  upon  the  elders,  who 
usually  were  of  the  number  eligible  for  the  position  of 
keeper.4  The  Navahoes  on  the  other  hand,  following  not 

1  Vide  pp.  132-150.  2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  75.  3  Ibid. 

4  Fletcher-Laflesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p.  595. 


26 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


a  law  but  general  custom,  made  the  youngest  son  the 
hatali ,  or  medicine  man,  on  the  ground  that  he  possessed 
more  intellect  and  a  better  memory  than  any  other  member 
of  the  family.1  Of  the  Peruvians,  Dorman  writes  that  the 
priestly  office  appears  to  have  been  hereditary,2  and  here¬ 
ditary  in  families  was  the  doctorship  among  the  Dyaks3 
and,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  priesthood  of  Nagualism.4 
The  power  of  the  sorcerer  in  the  New  Hebrides,5  like 
the  office  of  medicine  man  among  the  Guanas  of  Paraguay,6 
was  supposed  to  descend  from  father  to  son.  Chiefly 
hereditary,  too,  are  the  positions  among  the  Pima  Indians 
of  the  “examining  physicians”  who  are  summoned  in  cases 
of  sickness,  and  of  whom  there  are  as  many  women  as 
men.7  The  post  of  shaman  among  (  the  Chimariko 
Indians,  on  the  contrary,  while  it  might  be  held  by  both 
men  and  women,  might  or  might  not  be  hereditary,8  and  like¬ 
wise,  among  the  Negritos  of  Zambales,  Philippine  Islands, 
admittance  to  the  profession  of  medicine  man  might  be 
gained  by  one  who  had  cured  the  sick,  as  well  as  by  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  regular  family  of  the  “mediquillos”  [doctors].9 
But  by  the  Saoras  the  power  of  the  kudang ,  the  man 

1  Matthews  ,“The  Night  Chant,  A  Navaho  Ceremony,”  Memoirs 
American  Museum  of  Nat.  Hist.  (Notes),  p.  312. 

2  Dorman,  “Primitive  Superstitions,”  p.  384. 

3  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  260. 

4  Brinton,  “Nagualism,”  p.  29. 

5  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  711. 

6  Hassler,  “Die  Bewohner  des  Gran  Chaco,”  Internat.  Cong,  of 
Anthrop.,  1894,  p.  356. 

7  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  256. 

8  Dixon,  “The  Chimariko  Indians  and  Language,”  University  of 
California  Publications  in  American  Archeology  and  Eth¬ 
nology,  V,  p.  303. 

9  Reed,  “Negritos  of  Zambales,”  p.  66. 


ch  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  27 


who  held  intercourse  with  spirits,  was  considered  here¬ 
ditary,  not  to  be  acquired  by  any  one  outside  of  the  chosen 
family.1 


The  notion  of  a  divine  call  to  the  work  of  representing 
heaven  on  earth  is  not  peculiar  to  any  one  age,  race, 
religion,  or  state  of  civilization.  Some  savage  peoples 
believe  in  the  necessity  and  reality  of  such  a  “call”  as  firmly 
and  as  uncompromisingly  as  do  the  exponents  of  cer¬ 
tain  sects  adhering  to  the  Christian  religion.  The  natives 
of  Victoria,  for  example,  think  that  the  spirits  of  deceased 
ancestors  search  out  those  whom  they  desire  to  act  as 
medicine  men.  They  meet  them  in  the  bush  and  instruct 
them  in  all  the  arts  needful  for  making  them  influential 
in  their  tribe.2  Among  the  Bilquila  of  northwest  Canada, 
the  “chosen”  fall  into  a  sickness  during  which  the  gods 
communicate  to  them  an  exorcising  formula  which  they 
must  never  divulge.3  Kropf  relates  that  the  Kaffir  medicine 
man  is  called  to  his  office  by  the  supernatural  powers,  and 
receives  medical  knowledge  by  revelation  of  the  spirits.4 
In  some  cases  the  peculiar  behavior  of  a  young  man 


is  indicative  of  the  fact  that  he  has  received  the  “call.” 


■**»«»** 


When  a  vague  and  indescribable  longing  seizes  him,  or  a 
morbid  appetite  possesses  him,  or  he  falls  prey  to  an 
unappeasable  and  aimless  restlessness  or  a  causeless 
melancholy,  the  old  men  recognize  these  signs  as  the 
expressions  of  a  personal  spirit  of  the  highest  order. 


1  J.  A.  Soc.  of  Bombay,  I,  p.  247. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvblker,”  p.  76. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Ibid. 


28 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


It  not  infrequently  happens  that  fond  and  ambitious 
parents  consecrate  one  or  more  of  their  children  to  the 
service  of  the  gods.  In  some  countries  every  family 
devotes  a  son  to  religious  celibacy.  On  the  Gold 
Coast,  if  several  children  die,  sometimes  the  mother 
vows  to  devote  the  next  born  to  the  holy  office, 
thinking  that  then  it  may  live.1  Among  the  Tibetans, 
Bishop  writes,  “a  younger  son  in  every  household  becomes 
a  monk,  and  occasionally  enters  upon  his  vocation  as  an 
acolyte  pupil  as  soon  as  weaned.  At  the  age  of  thirteen 
these  acolytes  are  sent  to  study  at  Lhassa  for  five  or 
seven  years.”  2  Among  the  Western  Iniots,  the  priests  in 
office  choose  young  children  whom  they  train  to  be 
medicine  men.  Sometimes,  even  before  a  child  is  born, 
they  will  ask  its  parents  to  devote  it  to  the  sacred  office. 
These  parents  must  then  fast,  and  pray  to  their  ancestors  to 
care  for  the  future  shaman.  As  soon  as  the  child  is  born 
he  is  sprinkled  with  urine,  and  then  his  training  begins. 
He  is  brought  up,  to  be  unlike  other  children  in  speech, 
manner,  and  conduct,  and  with  the  title,  “He  who  has  been 
set  apart,”  is  led  to  believe  and  proclaim  that  he  is  made 
of  different  clay  from  the  most  of  mankind.  The  neophyte 
is  compelled  to  fast,  to  indulge  in  long  and  dreary 
vigils,  thereby  keeping  his  body  under  and  bringing 
it  into  subjection,  in  order  that  it  may  without 
complaint  obey  the  dictates  of  the  mind  and  will.3 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  120—121. 

2  Bishop,  “Among  the  Tibetans,”  p.  88. 

3  Reclus,  “Primitive  Folk,”  p.  71. 


ch.  h  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  29 


When  the  author  was  living  in  the  Philippine  Islands, 
he  heard  that  a  few  years  earlier,  in  a  barrio  [village]  some 
miles  south  of  Manila,  a  famous  “spit  doctor” 
gained  considerable  notoriety  by  reason  of  his  so-called 
wonderful  cures.  His  account  of  the  way  he  became  a 
doctor  is  that  one  day  while  walking  in  the  San  Mateo 
mountains  he  became  tired,  and  lay  down  at  the  foot 
of  a  tree  to  rest  and  refresh  himsielf.  Sleep-  overtook 
him,  and  a  being  with  long,  white  whiskers  appeared  in  a 
dream.  After  having  made  a  few  mysterious  “passes,”  the 
ghostly  visitor  addressed  him  after  this  fashion:  “Enchong, 
you  are  appointed  chief  doctor  in  these  islands,  and  by 

_  I  ,  mi  I  mi  "  "  ""n  iwhwiwwiii.  |  ] .  um |r — [|tnT-|n  — fri  rn) nafmmu  I^im, 

virtue  of  this  appointment  you  are  empowered  to  heal  all 
the  sick  that  seek  your  aid.  Spit  on  them,  and  you  will 
secure  their  eternal  gratitude.”  Returning  to  his  native 
barrio,  Enchong  told  everybody  in  the  neighborhood  of 
his  dream,  and  the  report  soon  spread  abroad  that  his 
novel  method  of  the  treatment  of  disease  by  rubbing  the 
sick  with  his  saliva  was  infallible.  In  a  short  time  the  road 
leading  to  the  house  of  Enchong  was  congested  with 
carretelas  [one-horse  vehicles  used  by  poorer  classes],  and 
not  infrequently  with  conveyances  of  richer  folk,  crowded 
with  sick  persons,  seeking  the  house  of  the  doctor.  When  the 
civil  authorities,  however,  became  aware  of  the  existence 
in  their  midst  of  that  primitive  method  of  the  treatment 
of  disease,  they  declared  Enchong  to  be  an  insane  person, 
and  committed  him  to  an  asylum.  And  while  the  older 
inhabitants  of  Manila  and  vicinity  continue  to  believe  in 
the  magical  power  of  Enchong  and  his  kind,  it  would 


30 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


seem  that  the  younger  generation,  in  part  at  least,  have 
outgrown  that  kind  and  degree  of  superstition,  for  the 
Tagalog  youth  laughingly  refer  to  him  as  “Doctor  Laway,” 
— Tagalog  for  “Doctor  Spit.” 

On  the  Gold  Coast,  says  Ellis,  “the  knowledge  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  gods  and  their  service  is  transmitted  from 
generation  to  generation  of  priests;  and  their  number  is 
constantly  being  recruited  by  persons  who  voluntarily 
devote  themselves,  or  are  devoted  by  their  relatives  or 
masters,  to  the  profession.”1 

From  the  accounts  of  travellers  and  other  observers 
are  to  be  obtained  at  first  hand  notions  of  nature  people 
themselves  as  to  the  ways  in  which  their  medicine  men  are 
made.  In  Australia,  for  example,  in  the  Makjarawaint  branch 
of  the  Watgo  nation,  the  necessary  qualification  for  enter¬ 
ing  the  calling  of  shaman  was  for  an  individual  to  be  able 
to  see  the  ghost  of  his  mother  sitting  beside  her  grave.  A 
boy  thus  talented  would  be  taken  in  hand  by  a  medicine 
man,  smoked  with  cherry  leaves,  smeared  with  red  ochre 
and  grease,  and  otherwise  prepared  for  his  future 
work.2  A  medicine  man  of  the  Yakuts  tells  that 
he  entered  his  profession  through  chance.  He  built  a  fire 
on  the  grave  of  a  distinguished  Tungus  shaman ,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  dead  took  possession  of  him.3  Miss  Kingsley 
describes  at  length  the  process  of  shaman-making  found 
in  the  Calabar  region.  “Every  freeman,”  she  writes,  “has 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  120. 

2  Howitt,  “South  East  Australia,”  p.  404. 

3  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  L,  XXXI,  p.  103. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  31 


to  pass  through  the  secret  society  of  his  tribe.  If,  during 
this  education,  the  elders  of  the  society  discover  that  a  boy 
is  what  is  called  ‘ebumtup;’ — that  is,  a  person  who  can 
see  spirits — he  is  usually  apprenticed,  as  it  were,  to  a 
witch  doctor.  He  takes  up  his  studies  and  learns  the 
difference  between  the  dream  soul  and  the  one  in  which 
‘sisa'  are  kept— a  mistake  between  the  two  would  be  on 
par  with  mistaking  oxalic  acid  for  Epsom  salts.  He  then 
is  taught  to  howl  in  a  professional  way,  and,  by  watch¬ 
ing  his  professor,  picks  up  his  bedside  manner.  If  he 
can  acquire  a  showy  way  of  having  imitation  epileptic  fits, 
so  much  the  better.  In  fact,  as  a  medical  student  he  has 
to  learn — well,  as  much  there  as  here.  He  must  know  the 
dispositions,  the  financial  position,  the  little  scandals,  in 
short,  the  definite  status  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  whole 
district,  for  these  things  are  of  undoubted  use  in  divination 
and  in  the  finding  of  witches,  and,  in  addition,  he  must  be 
able  skilfully  to  dispense  charms,  and  know  what  babies 
say  before  their  own  mothers  can.  Then  some  day  his 
professor  and  instructor  dies,  and  upon  the  pupil  descend 
his  paraphernalia  and  his  practice.”  1 

The  sight  of  the  unusual  and  unfamiliar  fills  the 
savage  with  feelings  of  awe.  Whatever  thing  he  cannot 
comprehend,  whatever  man  he  finds  remarkable,  he  re¬ 
gards  as  supernatural.2  &  3  The  people  of  the  twentieth  cen¬ 
tury  attribute  physical  or  intellectual  greatness  to  quality 

1  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  p.  214. 

2  Schoolcraft,  “Information  Respecting  Indian  Tribes  of  the 
United  States,”  III,  p.  248;  IV,  p.  642. 

3  Winterbottom,  “Account  of  the  Native  Africans  in  Sierra 
Leone,”  I,  p.  222. 


32 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


of  brain  fibre,  or  to  genius ;  the  savage,  to  spirit  possession. 
The  Chippeways  thus  call  anything  that  they  cannot 
understand,  or  anyone  of  their  fellows  who  is  unusual, 
a  “spirit.” 1  Any  capacity  of  an  individual — physical  or 
mental — with  which  primitive  man  is  not  familiar, 
causes  him  to  regard  the  person  with  such  peculiarities  as 
one  possessed  either  by  the  spirit  of  a  dead  shaman,  or 
by  a  spirit  of  a  departed  ancestor,  or  by  some  other  of  the 
myriad  inhabitants  of  the  unseen  world. 

The  divergencies  from  normal,  physical,  and  mental, 
which  various  peoples  have  regarded  as  indications 
of  divinity,  are  many.  Albinos,  for  instance,  to  some 
savage  races  seem  chosen  by  nature  for  the  office  of 
priest.2  There  have  been  zealous  advocates  of  Christianity, 
of  whom  Origen,  the  celebrated  Father  of  the  Greek 
Church,  is  the  classical  example,3  who  have  made  them¬ 
selves  eunuchs,  taking  literally  the  words  of  Christ:  “If 
thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out  and  cast  it  from 
thee:  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one  of  thy  members 
should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole  body  should  be  cast 
into  hell.” 4  But  that  there  are  persons  of  diseased 
imaginations  in  all  varieties  of  religious  beliefs,  stages  of 
culture,  and  physical  and  mental  environments,  is  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that  desexualization  is  sometimes  regarded  as 
a  necessary  concomitant  of  religious  authority.  Castration 

1  Buchanan,  “History,  Manners  and  Customs  of  North  American 
Indians,”  p  228 

2  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.  IX, 
p.  460 

3  Newman,  “Church  History,”  Vol.  I.  pp.  280—282 

4  St.  Matt.  19  : 12. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  33 


was  required,  for  example,  of  the  priests  of  Cybele ; 1  and 
the  manang  bali  of  the  Sea  Dyaks,  though  a  man,  was 
garbed  in  the  dress  of  a  woman.2 

Some  peculiarity  of  circumstances  of  birth,  or  some 
especial  mark  of  distinction — anything  that  differentiates 
a  man  from  his  fellows — may  point  to  the  fact  that  he 
has  been  chosen  of  heaven  to  represent  it  on  earth.  In 
Liberia,  twins  are  regarded  as  especially  designed  for  the 
office  of  medicine  man.  In  Nias,  those  born  feet  first  are 
considered  specialists  in  cases  of  sprain.3  In  Korea,  a  blind 
son  is  a  satisfaction  to  his  parents,  since  he  may  become 
one  of  the  pan-su ,  or  sorcerers,  and  be  assured  of  a 
comfortable  living.4  Among  the  Sea  Dyaks,  those  whoi  are 
blind  and  incurably  maimed  often  support  themselves  by 
entering  the  priesthood.5  Roth  writes  concerning  those 
people:  “I  have  now  a  blind  man  living  with  me.  I  had 
heard  that  the  manang s ,  or  spirit  doctors,  wanted  to 
get  hold  of  him,  so  one  day  I  asked  him  if  he  really  was 
going  to  become  a  manang.  He  replied,  ‘Yes,  I  suppose 
so;  but  if  I  had  only  my  eyesight,  catch  me  becoming  a 
manang  .”'6 

Sometimes  a  person  gains  admittance  to  the  goodly 
company  of  the  elect  by  what  may  be  called  a  process 
of  natural  selection.  Thus  a  Pima  Indian,  in  order  to  be- 

1  Depuis,  “Origine  de  Tous  les  Cultes,”  II,  part  2,  pp.  87—88. 

2  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarlawak  and  British  North  Borneo,” 
p.  270. 

3  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOker,”  p.  75. 

4  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  402. 

6  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,” 
I,  p.  265. 

6  Ibid. 


4 


34 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


come  a  medicine  man,  had  only  to  recover  from  a  rattle¬ 
snake  bite  on  the  hand  or  near  the  heart.1  Similar  was  the 
manner  of  selection  in  the  case  of  a  medicine  man  of  the 
aborigines  of  Victoria.  This  man  fell  to  the  ground  from  a 
great  height  as  a  result  of  sitting  on  the  portion  of  a 
branch  that  he  was  cutting  from  a  tree ;  but  he  escaped  in¬ 
jury,  and  was  rewarded  for  his  stupidity  by  being  made 
a  shaman.2  In  these  cases  it  may  be  clearly  seen  that  the 
reason  assigned  by  primitive  peoples  for  the  apparently 
miraculous  escapes  is  that  of  spirit  protection  or  spirit 
possession. 

In  the  “Yakuts”  of  Sieroshevski  is  to  be  found  a 
description  of  the  medicine  men  of  that  people  which  no 
one  can  read  without  being  impressed  with  their  physical 
peculiarities,  and  after  reading  he  will  cease,  in  a  measure 
at  least,  to  wonder  that  the  uncritical  nature  man  should 
regard  these  religious  leaders  as  being  possessed  by  the 
gods.  One  of  those  persons  “was  sixty  years  old,  of  middle 
stature,  a  dried-up  muscular  man,  although  it  was  evident 
that  he  had  once  been  vigorous  and  active.  Even  when 
seen,  he  could  still  perform  shamanistic  rites,  jump  and 
dance  the  whole  night  through  without  being  weary. 
His  countenance  was  dark  and  full  of  active  expression. 
The  pupil  of  his  eye  was  surrounded  by  a  double  ring  of 
dull,  green  color.  When  he  was  practicing  his  magic,  his 
eyes  took  on  a  peculiar,  unpleasant,  dull  glare,  and  an 
expression  of  idiocy,  and  the  persistent  stare  excited  and 

1  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  257. 

2  Brough  Smith,  “Aborigines  of  Victoria/’  p.  465. 


ch.ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  35 


disturbed  those  upon  whom  he  fixed  it.” 1  “ Another 
shaman says  the  same  writer,  “who  was  observed, 
had  the  same  peculiarities  of  the  eyes.  In  general,  there 
is  in  the  appearance  of  a  shaman  something  peculiar, 
which  enabled  the  author  after  some  practice  to  distin¬ 
guish  him  with  great  certainty  in  the  midst  of  a  number 
of  persons.  He  is  distinguished  by  a  certain  energy  and 
mobility  of  the  muscles  of  the  face,  which  generally  among 
the  Yakuts  are  immobile.  There  is  also  in  his  movements 
a  noticeable  spryness.”  2 

If  the  savage  regards  the  physically  abnormal  as  due 
to  spirit  possession,  with  what  feelings  of  awe  must  he 
regard  the  mentally  abnormal?  He  knows  nothing  of  the 
laws  of  natural  causation;  it  never  occurs  to  him  that  the 
body  has  power  over  the  mind,  and  that  the  mind  in  turn 
affects  the  body.  With  him  skepticism  and  criticism  are 
but  slightly  if  at  all  developed;  and  he  has  not  enough 
curiosity  to  prompt  inquiry.  The  theory  of  natural 
causation  necessitates  growth,  multiplication  of  arts,  accu¬ 
mulation  of  experience,  and  familiarization,  registration, 
and  recognition  of  constant  relations  of  phenomena.  All 
this  is  not  possible  among  primitive  societies.  For  mental 
abnormality,  therefore,  nature  man  can  do  nothing  but 
rely  upon  his  world  philosophy  to  furnish  the  “proper” 
explanation.  This  is  the  same  as  that  assigned  for  the  physi¬ 
cally  abnormal— the  individual  in  whom  are  manifested 
unusual  powers  is  regarded  as  a  fetich,  and  hence  is  looked 

v 

1  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  p.  102. 

2  Ibid. 


4* 


36 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


upon  with  feelings  of  respect,  wonder,  and  veneration. 
Thus  it  happens  that  a  man  who  is  subjected  to  disorders 
of  a  strange  and  impressive  character  is  some¬ 
times  chosen  for  a  medicine  man.  Among  the  Patagonians, 
for  example,  patients  seized  with  falling  sickness 
were  immediately  selected  for  magicians,  since  they 
were  believed  to  be  chosen  by  the  spirits  them¬ 
selves,  who  possessed,  distorted,  or  convulsed  them.1 
In  Samqa,  the  office  of  medicine  man  was  often  held  by 
hunchbacks  or  epileptics.2  Ehrenreich  says  of  the  Karaya 
Indians  of  Brazil,  “‘Any  one  can  become  a  medicine  man 
who  will  present  the  necessary  qualifications.  Nervous 
persons,  epileptics,  and  the  like  are  regarded  as  especially 
adapted  to  the  work.'”  3  The  shamanesses  of  the  Tungus 
were  those  who  in  girlhood  had  been  addicted  to  a  kind' 
of  foolish  melancholy.”  4  The  priests  of  the  Tshi-speaking 
peoples,  according  to  Ellis,  simulate  convulsions  and  foam¬ 
ing  at  the  mouth  to  give  the  idea  of  possession  by  a 
god.  “Indeed,”  he  continues,  “all  sickness  is  believed  to 
be  caused  by  superhuman  agents  who  enter  the  body; 
but  in  the  case,  say,  of  an  epileptic  seizure,  the  natives  have 
what  they  consider  the  strongest  evidence  of  this.  Con¬ 
sequently,  the  priests,  in  order  to  convey  to  the  public  the 
idea  that  a  god  has  entered  the  body,  simulate,  as  well  as 
they  can,  the  symptoms  of  a  person  in  a  fit.” 5 

1  Falkner,  “Description  of  Patagonia,”  p.  117. 

2  Ella,  “Samoa,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  638. 

3  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  179. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  148. 


ch.  ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  37 


While  it  is  true  that  men  of  inferior  mental  powers 
are  sometimes  chosen  to  represent  the  spirits,  yet  the 
medicine  men  wielding  the  greatest  influence — an  influence 
making  for  progress  and  advancement — have  been  in¬ 
dividuals  of  intellectual  parts.  At  Delphi,  for  example, 
Apollo  was  thought  to  speak  through  the  mouths  of  feeble 
girls  and  women  as  a  sign  that  it  is  no  human  wisdom  and 
art  that  reveals  the  divine  will.  The  mutterings  of  the  priest¬ 
ess,  however,  were  taken  down  and  interpreted  by  attend¬ 
ant  priests.  Those  priests  were  men  of  intelligence,  and 
it  was  because  of  their  activity  In  directing  the  placing  of 
Greek  colonies  that  civilization  owes  its  lasting  debt  to 
the  Delphian  oracle.1 

When  a  man  of  great  intelligence  adds  to  his  mental 
resources  an  unusual  fund  of  acquired  knowledge  and  cul¬ 
ture,  the  effect  upon  the  savage  mind  is  greatly  intensified. 
In  order  to  retain  and  augment  his  hold  upon  the  people, 
the  medicine  man  is  under  constant  stimulus  to  acquire 
the  ability  to  perform  feats  and  effect  results  which  exceed 
the  ability  of  his  constituents  to  achieve  or  even  to  under¬ 
stand.  The  consequence  is  that  the  attitude  of  the  people 
toward  him  is  that  of  reverence — which  attitude  is 
generally  that  of  ignorance  toward  knowledge. 

The  unusual  intellectual  and  physical  phenomena  ex¬ 
hibited  by  the  medicine  men  excite  not  only  awe,  but 
fear.  Among  some  peoples,  it  is  said  that  it  was  the 
custom  of  ordinary  individuals  to  fall  flat  upon  their  faces 
before  the  shaman.  Other  writers  state  that  the  fear  of  the 
medicine  man  is  so  great  that  in  undoubted  and  repeated 

1  Meyers,  “Ancient  History,”  p.  179. 


38  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


instances  his  curse  kills  as  certainly  as  a  knife.  Among  the 
Western  Indians  of  this  country,  when  a  medicine  man 
utters  a  withering  curse  on  his  antagonist,  the  latter  knows 
that  all  hope  is  lost.  Sometimes  he  drops  dead  on  the  spot.1 
Some  Australian  tribes  believe  that  the  curse  of  a  power¬ 
ful  medicine  man  will  kill  at  a  distance  of  one  hundred 
miles.2 

As  has  been  said  already  (p.  10  supra),  primitive 
men  attribute  insanity  to  spirit  possession.  This 
disease  of  the  brain,  while  perhaps  most  prevalent 
among  civilized  races,  occurs  as  well  among  barbaric  and 
savage  tribes.  But  nature  man  knows  nothing  about  brain 
diseases.  No  words  in  his  vocabulary  express  such  ideas. 
He  explains  the  phenomena  of  insanity,  therefore,  in  the 
easiest  possible  way,  that  is  to  say  by  the  time-honored 
theory  of  ghost  possession.  When  he  sees  an  individual 
lying  prostrate,  refusing  to  eat,  speaking  to  some  one 
whom  the  bystanders  cannot  see,  shrinking  with  terror 
from  an  invisible  foe,  talking  nonsense  incoherently,  laugh¬ 
ing  without  cause,  the  obvious  inference  is  that  one  of 
those  invisible  spirits,  of  which  the  air  is  full,  has  taken  up 
its  residence  in  the  body  of  the  man.3  That  in 
Sumatra  lunatics  are  considered  possessed  (p.  10  supra) 
is  not  surprising,4  nor  that  in  some  parts  of  the  eastern 
hemisphere  madness  is  tantamount  to  inspiration.5  The 
ancient  Hebrews  believed  their  prophets  to  be  inspired.  In 

1  Brinton,  “Myths  of  the  New  World,”  p.  318. 

2  Curr,  “The  Australian  Race,”  II,  p.  610. 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  229. 

4  Marsden,  “History  of  Sumatra,”  p.  191. 

5  “Rambles  in  the  Deserts  of  Syria,”  p.  190. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  39 


the  ninth  chapter  of  the  second  book  of  Kings  there  is  to 
be  found  the  story  of  the  anointing  of  Jehu  as  king  of 
Israel.  Elisha  commissions  a  young  prophet  to  perform 
that  office,  after  which  he  is  to  pronounce  a  curse  upon 
the  house  of  Ahab.  After  obeying  the  behest  of  his 
master,  the  prophet  is  said  to  have  fled  from  the  house  in 
which  the  anointing  took  place.  “Then  Jehu  came  forth 
to  the  servants  of  his  lord;  and  one  said  unto  him,  ‘Is  all 
well?  wherefrom  came  this  mad  fellow  to  thee?*  And  he 
said  unto  them,  ‘Ye  know  the  man  and  his  commission. 1 
Comment  is  unnecessary  as  to  the  connexion  in  ancient 
Jewish  thought  between  insanity  and  inspiration.  The 
word  “huaka”  in  the  Quichua  language  is  the  general  term 
for  the  divine.  “Huaka  runa”  signifies  the  divine  man,  and 
means  one  who  is  crazy.2  Cook  writes  of  meeting  two 
insane  persons — a  man  at  Owhyhee,  and  a  woman  at 
Oneeheow — who,  as  was  obvious  by  the  attention  paid 
them,  were  regarded  in  that  part  of  the  country  as  inspired 
by  a  god.3 

Since  an  insane  man  differs  from  others  because  of  the 
indwelling  of  spirits,  who  in  all  the  land  is  better  fitted 
to  plead  the  cause  of  mortals  with  the  gods?  True,  his 
ways  are  different  from  the  ways  of  other  persons,  but  so 
are  the  ways  of  the  gods.  The  very  fact,  therefore,  that  an 
insane  person  is  unlike  other  men  is  proof  positive  that  he 
is  by  nature  paramount.  Being  by  virtue  of  his  own  divinity 

1  II  Kings,  9:1-11. 

2  Middendorf,  “Worterbuch  des  Runa  simi  oder  der  Keshua 
Sprache.” 

3  Cook,  “Third  Voyage,”  III,  p.  131. 


40  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


on  intimate  terms  with  the  gods,  and  possessing  a 
knowledge  of  their  nature  and  disposition,  he  is  excellently 
equipped  for  devising  ways  and  means  of  procuring 
celestial  benefactions.  That  this  kind  of  reasoning  often 
results  in  the  elevation  of  a  person  who  in  popular  esteem 
is  mad  to  the  highest  position  in  the  tribe  may  be  inferred 
from  an  observation  of  Bartels  to  the  following  effect: 
“Through  his  shrewdness  and  turning  to  account  of  acci¬ 
dents,  the  medicine  man  manages  to  maintain  his  ascend¬ 
ency.  Among  the  Baksa  he  is  said  to  feign  madness  in  order 
to  give  the  impression  that  he  is  possessed  by  spirits. ” 1 

The  medicine  man  not  infrequently  is  a  victim  of 
hysteria.  In  this  malady  of  the  major  description  the 
patient  gives  vent  to  meaningless  laughs,  sobs,  and  cries. 
He  often  lies  stretched  out  at  full  length,  his  hands 
clasped,  his  eyes  closed,  his  body  curved  by  a  spasm. 
He  may  extend  his  hands  supinely  in  an  attitude  of  appeal¬ 
ing  terror,  clutch  spasmodically  at  the  ground,  shrink 
from  some  unseen  enemy,  fall  back  exhausted,  nerveless, 
and  to  all  appearances  insensible.  On  recovery  from  the 
attack  he  is  himself  again  with  no  recollection  of  what  has 
occurred.2  Modern  science  attributes  these  phenomena 
to  “the  loss  of  complete  control  exercised  by  the  higher 
nervous  centers,  due  partly  to  insufficient  or  inappropriate 
nutrition  and  partly  to  faulty  development.”  3  But  the 
savage  knows  nothing  of  the  science  of  neurology.  To 
him  the  reason  for  what  is  now  known  as  hysteria  is  spirit 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvblker,”  p.  52. 

2  Ellis,  “Man  and  Woman,”  p.  322. 

3  Ibid. 


ch.ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  41 


possession.  When  an  individual  is  subject  to  these  attacks — 
performing  actions  without  willing  it,  or  even  in  spite  of 
his  will— it  is  because  a  spirit  has  entered  his  body, 
either  temporarily  or  permanently,  setting  aside  his  own 
mind  and  will,  and  assuming  complete  control  over  the 
entire  man.  The  desire  of  the  spirits  for  the  one  so 
possessed  to  devote  his  life  to  their  service  would  thereby 
be  indicated.  If  the  devotee  is  obedient  to  the  divine  decision, 
he  will  have  no  trouble  in  making  full  proof  of  his  ministry. 
The  native  sorcerer  of  Tasmania  is  reported  by  Back¬ 
house  to  be  affected  with  fits  of  spasmodic  contraction  of 
the  muscles  of  one  breast,  a  malady  which  sufficed  to 
prove  to  his  people  that  he  was  inspired.1  Among  the 
Amazulu,  hysterical  symptoms  are  counted  as  indications 
that  the  imyanga,  or  diviner,  is  inspired,2  and  possessed 
“by  the  ‘Amatongo/  or  ancestral  spirits.” 3 

The  gods  or  ancestral  spirits  make  known  their  will  to 
favorites  in  dreams.  One  of  the  most  convincing  proofs 
of  spirit  intercourse  is  the  ability  to  dream  dreams,  and 
to  put  upon  those  dreams  the  proper  interpretation.  If 
a  man  can  do  this,  he  will  have  no  trouble  in  establishing 
his  right  to  be  called  a  medicine  man.  And  so  we  read  that 
among  the  Dieyerie  of  South  Australia,  boys  who  dream 
of  seeing  the  devil  are  regarded  as  especially  fitted  to 
become  medicine  men.4  A  medicine  man  among  the  Pima 
Indians  adopted  his  profession  because  of  frequent  dreams 

1  Backhouse,  “Australia,”  p.  103. 

2  Callaway,  “Religious  Systems  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  185. 

3  Ibid.,  pp.  183-259. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  76. 


42 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


that  he  had  been  visited  by  some  one  who  endowed  him 
with  magic  power.1  The  Mincopies  believe  that  the  medicine 
man  has  communion  with  the  unseen  powers  through 
dreams,  and  in  that  Way  is  able  to  look  upon  the  spirits 
of  the  ancestors  of  a  sick  man.2  In  East  Africa,  the 
medicine  man  dreams  his  dream,  and  then  gives  forth 
oracles  at  intervals  according  to  the  exigencies  o,f  the 
case;  sometimes  they  are  delivered  in  a  frenzied  state.3 
Among  the  Land  Dyaks,  according  to  Henry  Ling  Roth, 
“there  are  two  descriptions  of  ma.na.ngs , — the  regular 
and  the  irregular.  The  regular  are  those  who  have  been 
called  to  that  vocation  by  dreams,  and  to  whom  the  spirits 
have  revealed  themselves.  The  irregular  are  self-created 
and  without  a  familiar  spirit.” 4  And  Dixon  writes  of 
the  Chimariko  Indians,  “The  sign  that  a  person  was 
destined  to  become  a  shaman  was  a  series  of  dreams. 
These  were  in  the  case  of  a  man  often  the  result  of 
solitary  visits  to  remote  mountain  lakes,  in  which  the  per¬ 
son  would  bathe  at  dusk.  In  these  dreams  instructions 
were  given  the  neophyte  by  various  supernatural  beings, 
and  these  directions  must  be  followed  exactly.”5 

It  is  not  possible  for  the  shaman  to  inspire  confidence 
unless  he  produces  palpable  evidence  that  the  gods  are 
on  his  side.  But  it  not  uncommonly  happens  that  a  man 

1  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  257. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  51. 

3  MacDonald,  “East  Central  African  Customs,”  J.  A.  I.,  XXII,  p.  105. 

4  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I, 

p.  266. 

5  Dixon,  “The  Chimariko  Indians  and  Language.”  University 
of  Calif.  Publications  in  American  Archeology  and  Ethnology. 
V,  p.  303. 


ch.  h  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  43 


aspires  to  office  who  has  no  physical  or  mental  pecu¬ 
liarity  to  indicate  that  a  spirit  dwells  within  him.  The 
only  recourse  in  such  a  contingency  is  simulation.  The 
savage  is  not  acquainted  with  such  ideas  as  “suggestion,” 
“auto-suggestion,”  “hypnotism,”  and  “self-hypnotism.” 
The  medicine  man  nevertheless  often  unconsciously  makes 
use  of  these  phenomena  in  the  practice  of  his  profession.  He 
does  not  deliberately  say,  “Go  to,  I  will  now  proceed  to 
hypnotize  myself,  and  thereby  cause  the  people  to  think 
that  I  am  possessed,”  but,  in  effect,  that  is  frequently 
the  very  thing  he  unwittingly  does,  for  possessed  he  must 
be  or  seem  to  be. 

Sometimes  the  shaman  induces  auto-suggestion  by  star¬ 
ing  or  gazing  at  an  object.  In  the  Fiji  Islands,  the  priest  sits 
amid  complete  silence  looking  at  an  ornament  made  of 
the  tooth  of  a  whale.  Tylor  describes  his  actions:  “In  a  \ 
short  time  he  begins  to  tremble,  slight  twitchings  of  the 
face  and  limbs  follow ;  these  increase  to  strong  convulsions, 
with  swelling  of  the  veins,  murmurs,  and  sobs.  Now  the 
god  has  entered  him,  and  with  eyes  rolling  and  protruding, 
voice  unnatural,  face  pale,  lips  livid,  perspiration  streaming 

. 

from  every  pore,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  a  furiously  insane 
person,  he  speaks  the  will  of  the  gods,  and  then,  the 
symptoms  subsiding,  he  looks  around  with  a  vacant  stare 
and  becomes  himself  again.” 1 

Among  other  means  which  the  medicine  man  uses  to 
induce  the  hypnotic  state  may  be  named  the  prolonged 
hearing  of  the  same  note  or  rhythmic  chord,  the  eoncen- 

1  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  II,  p.  134. 


44 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


tration  of  the  mind  on  one  thought,  the  monotonous  repe¬ 
tition  of  words;  silences,  darkness,  solitude;  continuance  of 
the  same  motion;  association  with  persons  already  under 
hypnotic  influence.  Among  the  Singpho  of  Southeast  Asia, 
the  medicine  man  invokes  his  “nat”  or  spirit  for  assist¬ 
ance.1  In  Patagonia,  he  induces  a  real  or  pretended  fit 
by  drumming  or  rattling.2  In  Guiana,  the  method  of 
producing  inspiration  was  somewhat  heroic.  The 
servant  of  the  gods  was  forced  to  endure  fasting  and 
flagellations  of  extreme  severity.  Then  he  was  compelled 
to  dance  until  he  fell  to  the  ground,  exhausted  and 
senseless.  In  order  to  revive  him,  a  draught  of  tobacco 
juice,  which  caused  violent  nausea  and  vomiting  of  blood, 
was  administered.  This  treatment  was  kept  up  day  after 
day,  until  the  subject  dreamed  dreams,  saw  visions,  was 
seized  with  convulsions,  or  gave  incontrovertible  evi¬ 
dence  that  the  spirits  of  the  heavenly  regions  had  taken 
possession  of  him.3  It  is  very  perceptible  that  practices  of 
this  kind  act  upon  the  mind  in  such  a  manner  as  entirely 
to  alter  its  ordinary  habits. 

Trance  and  ecstasy  are  two  aids  of  the  medicine  man 
to  claims  of  divinity.  In  ecstasy  there  is  a  certain  want  of 
muscular  control,  and  the  mind  is  actively  employed  in 
seeing  visions;  during  trance  the  countenance  expresses 
an  inspired  illumination  of  a  more  than  earthly  character, 
and,  on  waking,  the  subject  is  able  to  recall  his  visions. 

1  Bastian,  “Ostl.  Asien,”  II,  p.  328. 

2  Falkner,  “Patagonians,”  p.  116. 

3  Meiners,  “Geschichten  der  Religionen,”  II,  p.  162. 


ch.  ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  45 


An  habitual  means  of  inducing  the  ecstatic  state  is  by 
drugs.  Among  all  peoples  some  knowledge  of  nar¬ 
cotics  used  to  bring  about  strange  and  vivid  hallu¬ 
cinations  is  found.1  The  priests  of  ancient  Mexico 

employed  an  ointment  or  a  drink  made  with  the  seeds 

of  olloliuhqui  which  induced  visions  and  delirium.2 
Among  the  Commis  of  Central  Africa,  the  medicine  man 
drinks  mboundou.3  The  negroes  of  the  Niger  had 

their  “fetich-water;”  the  Creek  Indians  of  Florida  had 
their  “black  drink 4  the  Kalingas  of  northern  Luzon, 
Philippine  Islands,  have  their  base .  In  some  parts  of 
Mexico  the  natives  took  the  peyotl,  and  the  snake 

plant.5  The  Japanese  have  their  sake;  the  Africans,  from 
Egypt  down  to  Zanzibar,  have  their  bussa,  which  is 
the  well-known  hydromel,  made  from  honey  and  water. 
The  Samoyeds  of  Siberia,  and  some  tribes  of  California 
used  the  poisonous  toadstool.  In  other  parts  of  California 
the  chacuaco  was  employed  for  this  purpose.6  Among 
the  Walapai  of  Arizona,  the  medicine  men  drank 
a  “decoction  of  the  leaves,  roots,  and  flowers  of 

the  ‘datura  stramonium’  to  induce  exhilaration.” 7  In 
Brazil,  the  priests  brought  on  ecstatic  states  by  smoking 

1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth,  IX, 

p.  455  ff. 

2  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg,  “Mexique,”  III,  p.  558. 

3  Wood,  “Natural  History  of  Man,”  I,  p.  576. 

4  Brinton,  “Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples,”  p.  67. 

5  Ibid;  and  Brinton,  “Nagualism,”  pp.  8—9. 

6  Ibid. 

7  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.  IX, 

p.  455. 


46 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


tobacco ; 1  the  priestess  of  Delphi  inhaled  stupefying  vapors 
from  a  deep  fissure  in  the  ground.2 

The  medicine  man  often  resorts  to  sleeplessness,  se¬ 
clusion,  and  obstinate  gloating  on  some  morbid  fancy  in 
order  to  bring  about  hallucinations.  He  is  usually  success¬ 
ful,  for  it  is  a  fact  well  known  to  medical  science  that 
the  more  frequently  these  diseased  conditions  of  the  mind 
are  sought,  the  more  readily  are  they  found.  The  shaman, 
therefore,  tries  repeatedly  until  finally,  as  in  thej  case  of 
Doctor  Jekyll,  the  nature  which  he  has  so  assiduously 
striven  to  induce  by  artificial  means  comes  without  seeking. 
Then  without  effort  he  possesses  hallucinations  with  all  the 
garb  of  reality. 

Other  means  for  entering  into  communion  with  the 
gods  are  by  gyrations  and  by  flagellations.  Among  the 
Dyaks  of  Borneo,  the  medicine  man,  after  running  many 
times  in  a  circle,  simulates  unconciousness,  and  it  is  then 
that  he  is  supposed  to  possess  greatest  power.3  The 
shaman  of  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  when  about  to 
communicate  with  the  deities,  pretends  to  be  convulsed,  and 
by  hurling  his  body  about  and  twisting  it  in  contortions, 
brings  himself  to  such  a  state  of  frenzy  that  his  eyes 
roll  madly,  and  foam  falls  from  his  lips.4  The  Malanau 
medicine  man  (or  medicine  woman),  with  hair  disheveled, 
twirls  around  until  his  staring  eyes  show  that  he  is  nearly 
insane.  Then  it  is  thought  he  is  able  to  commune  with  the 

1  Miiller,  “Amerikanische  Urreligionen,”  p.  277. 

2  Myers,  “Ancient  History,”  pp.  178—179. 

3  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  282. 

4  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  125—126. 


ch.d  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  47 


spirits,  and  gain  from  them  power  to  withdraw  the  daimon 
from  the  body  of  the  sick  person.1  In  Southern  India, 
the  shaman  “uses  medicated  draughts,  cuts  and  lacerates 
his  flesh  until  the  blood  flows,  lashes  himself  with  a  huge 
whip,  presses  a  burning  torch  to  his  breast,  drinks  the 
blood  which  flows  from  his  own  wounds,  or  drinks  the 
blood  of  the  sacrifice,  putting  the  throat  of  the  decapitated 
animal  to  his  mouth.  Then,  as  if  he  had  acquired  new 
life,  he  begins  to  brandish  his  staff  of  bells,  and  to  dance 
with  a  quick  but  wild,  unsteady  step.  Suddenly  the  afflatus 
descends.  There  is  no  mistaking  that  glare,  or  those  frantic 
leaps.  He  snorts,  he  stares,  he  gyrates.  The  daimon  has 
now  taken  bodily  possession  of  him;  and,  though  he  re¬ 
tains  the  power  of  utterance  and  of  motion,  both  sides  are 
under  the  control  of  the  daimon,  and  his  separate  con¬ 
sciousness  is  in  abeyance.” 2 

Sexual  continence  and  ecstatic  visions  stand  in  close 
relationship.  This  connexion,  to  be  sure,  is  not  conceived 
by  the  savage  in  modern  scientific  terms.  But  by  repeated 
trials,  failures,  and  successes1,  the  medicine  man  perceived 
that  when  he  praticed  sexual  abstinence  he  was  the  better 
fitted  to  enter  into  the  ecstatic  state.  He  learned,  therefore, 
unwittingly  and  no  doubt  accidentally,  that  the  phenomena 
of  the  religious  life  are  to  a  large  extent  based  on  sexual 
life.  Consequently  the  intelligence  that  continence  was 
often  required  throughout  the  whole  novitiate  of  individ¬ 
uals  in  training  for  the  holy  office  is  not  at  all  amazing. 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  p.  28?. 

2  J.  A.  Society  of  Bombay,  1886,  pp.  101 — 102. 


48  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


And  visions  came,  not  as  heavenly  visitants,  but  because 
repression  of  sex  impulses  is  sometimes  concomitant  with 
the  stimulation  of  religious  auto-intoxication.  The  medicine 
man  is  not  always  a  paragon  of  virtue  and  sex  morality; 
he  is  sometimes  the  reverse.  It  is  when  he  wishes  to  induce 
theoleptic  fits  that  he  practices  continence.  On  his  recovery 
from  the  theopneustic  trance,  his  repressed  emotions  some¬ 
times  explode  with  abnormal  violence.  These  emotions 
having  been,  as  it  were,  diverted  into  a  foreign  channel, 
and  meanwhile  increased  in  force,  when  the  reason  for  their 
repression  no  longer  exists,  break  back  into  their  normal 
course  with  intensified  vehemence.1  Says  an  acute  observer: 
“I  know  no  fact  of  pathology  more  striking  and  even  terri¬ 
fying  than  the  way  in  which  the  phenomena  of  the  ecstatic 
state  may  be  plainly  seen  to  bridge  the  gulf  between  the 
innocent  fooleries  of  ordinary  hypnotic  patients,  and  the 
depraved  and  repulsive  phenomena  of  nymphomania  and 
satyriasis.”  2  By  reason  of  the  facility  with  which  the 
ecstatic  state  passes  into  abnormal  sexual  emotion,  it  not 
infrequently  happens  that  after  their  return  to  normal 
consciousness  the  representatives  of  the  gods  are  guilty  of 
unspeakable  dissoluteness.3 

The  exponent  of  the  gods,  after  much  experimentation, 
came  to  know  that  the  ecstatic  state  can  be  induced  by 
abstinence  from  food.  Fasting,  indeed,  is  one  of  the  strong¬ 
est  means  of  interfering  with  the  healthy  action  of  bodily 

1  Ellis,  “Man  and  Woman,”  p.  295. 

2  Anstie,  “Lectures  on  Disorders  of  the  Nervous  System,” 
Lancet,  Jan.  11th,  1873,  p.  40. 

3  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  I,  p.  122. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  49 


and  mental  functions,  and  so  of  producing  visions  of  de¬ 
light.  The  primitive  interpretation  of  phenomena  of  this 
kind  is  that  of  divine  visitation.  While  fasting  and  praying, 
the  medicine  man  receives  much  preparation  for  his  work. 
Even  the  name  by  which  he  is  sometimes  known  is 
significant,  the  word  “shaman”  being  a  corruption  of  the 
Sanscrit  term  for  “ascetic.” 1  Schoolcraft  says,  “Among  the 
American  Indians,  the  ‘jossakeed’  or  soothsayer  prepares 
himself  by  fasting  and  the  use  of  the  sweat  bath  for  the 
state  of  convulsive  ecstacy  in  which  he  utters  the  dic¬ 
tates  of  the  familiar  spirits.” 2  In  Zululand,  the  doctor, 
in  order  to  enter  into  communion  with  the  amadhlozi 
or  ghosts  from  which  he  is  to  obtain  direction,  limits  him¬ 
self  to  spare,  abstemious  diet,  and  subjects  himself  to  suf¬ 
fering,  castigation,  and  solitary  wandering  in  the  forest.3 
Among  the  Ojibways,  a  wabeno  will  sometime  in  his  youth 
withdraw  from  the  village  and  fast  for  several  days,  so  that 
he  may  be  visited  by  dreams  and  visions  that  will  be  his 
guides.4  Dobrizhoffer  says  of  the  Abipones,  “Those  who 
aspire  to  the  office  of  ‘keebet’  or  juggler  are 
said  to  sit  on  an  aged  willow  overhanging  some 
lake,  to  abstain  from  food  for  several  days,  till  they 
begin  to  see  into  futurity.” 5  The  Boulian  of  North 
Queensland,  after  starving  for  three  days,  is  rewarded 
by  the  fancied  apparition  of  a  malkari  or  nature- 

1  Mallery,  “Picture  Writing  of  American  Indians,’*  Bur.  Eth., 
X,  p.  490. 

2  Schoolcraft,  “Information  Respecting  the  Indian  Tribes  of 
the  United  States,”  III,  p.  287. 

3  Callaway,  “Religious  Systems  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  387. 

4  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII,  p.  156. 

5  Dobrizhoffer,  “Abipones,”  II,  p.  67. 


50 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


spirit,  which  proceeds  to  stick  pebbles  or  bones  or  quartz- 
crystals  into  his  body,  and  thus  makes  him  a  medicine 
man.1  Of  the  Greenlanders,  Crantz  reports  that  whoever 
aspires  to  the  office  of  shaman  must  retire  to  a  solitary 
place,  and  call  upon  tormgarsuk  to  send  him  a  tormgak. 
After  a  time,  because  of  abstinence  from  food  and 
flagellation  of  the  body,  his  imagination  becomes  distorted ; 
he  sees  blended  images  of  men,  beasts,  and  monsters. 
Irregularities  of  the  body  follow,  and  convulsions,  which  he 
endeavors  to  augment,  give  the  final  proof  of  possession.2 

But  why  multiply  instances  of  fasting  which  have 
produced  their  natural  effects  in  ecstatic  visions?  They 
have  been  resorted  to  by  shaman  and  priest,  by  heathen 
and  Christian,  by  Protestant  and  Catholic,  for  the  same 
purpose  of  bringing  about  communion  with  the  unseen 
powers.  Old  men  have  dreamed  dreams  because  of  gorged 
stomachs.  As  a  result  of  rigorous  fasting  young  men 
have  seen  visions.  But,  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Tylor,  “Bread 
and  meat  would  have  robbed  the  ecstatic  of  many  an  angel 
visit;  the  opening  of  the  refectory  door  must  many  a  time 
have  closed  the  gates  of  heaven  to  his  gaze.” 3 

Another  expedient,  which  in  the  minds  of  his  con¬ 
stituents  serves  to  establish  the  claims  of  the  medicine 
man,  is  the  art  of  jugglery.  The  majority  of  the  human 
race  are  open  to  this  kind  of  evidence.  A  successful  business 
man  in  recent  years,  upon  witnessing  an  alleged  miracle 

1  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland 
Ethnography,  Bulletin,  Number  5,  p.  29. 

2  Crantz,  “Historie  von  Gronland,”  I,  p.  194. 

3  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  Edition  of  1905,  II,  p.  415. 


ch.  ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  51 


performed  by  a  charlatan  spiritual  healer,  acknowledged  the 
religious  leadership  of  that  sensationalist.  If  such  gullibility 
is  possible  to  a  cultured  man  in  an  advanced  stage 
of  civilization,  what  would  be  the  attitude  of  the  savage 
toward  the  doer  of  strange  deeds?  He  would  without 
question  bow  at  the  feet  of  the  master.  When  no  physical 
or  mental  peculiarity,  therefore,  differentiates  him  from  the 
rest  of  his  kind,  the  medicine  ,  man  is  under  constant 
stimulus  to  execute  feats  and  achievements  which  exceed 
the  power  of  the  laity  to  perform  or  understand.1 
Hence  he  is  often  cunning,  clever,  and  given  to 
the  practice  of  trickery.  By  a  process  of  selection 
he  attains  skill,  ingenuity,  and  ability  to  do  the  seemingly 
impossible.  The  aspirant  for  office  who  is  unable, 
either  by  force  of  intellect,  or  by  artifice,  or  by  adroitness, 
or  by  craft,  or  by  chicanery,  to  justify  his  pretentions 
goes  down  in  the  struggle,  and  his  inferior  qualities  perish 
with  him.  His  more  capable  companions,  on  the  other 
hand,  succeed  in  overawing  and  hypnotizing  the  com¬ 
monalty,  and  as  a  result  survive.  Their  superior  qualities 
and  capacities  are  transmitted  to  succeeding  generations, 
until  ultimately  the  ablest  and  most  clever  men  in  the  tribe 
or  nation  form  what  comes  toi  be  known  as  the  priest 
class. 

Many  accounts  have  been  given  by  travellers  of  clever 
feats  performed  by  medicine  men,  but  a  few  instances  will 
serve  to  illustrate  the  fact  that  often  by  executing  an  extra¬ 
ordinary  performance  the  shaman  succeeds  in  creating  and 
maintaining  a  place  for  himself. 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  184. 


5* 


52 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


According  to  Howitt,  among  Australian  tribes,  the 
doctors  profess  to  extract  from  the  human  body  foreign 
substances  which  in  the  native  belief  have  been  placed 
there  by  the  magic  of  wizards  or  other  doctors,  or  by 
supernatural  beings.1  “The  black  fellow  doctors,”  Howitt 
further  states,  “as  a  class  naturally  surround  themselves 
with  mystery.  Their  magical  practices  are  not  favored 
by  too  open  examination,  and  the  more  that  is  left 
to  the  active  imagination  of  their  tribe,  the  better  their 
assistances  are  received.” 2  Ratzel  writes  that  “a 
shaman  occasionally  pulls  out  his  eye  and  eats  it,  sticks 
a  knife  into  his  breast,  or  lets  a  bullet  be  shot  through 
his  head  without  being  any  the  worse  for  it.”  3  A  Dakota 
medicine  man,  who  understood  sleightof-hand,  appeared 
to  draw  from  his  side  below  his  ribs  a  quid  of  tobacco;4 
while  the  Eskimo  angakoks  during  the  Sedna  feast  thrust 
harpoons  into  their  bodies,  taking  precautions,  however, 
beforehand  to  place  under  their  clothes  bladders  filled 
with  blood.5  The  wabeno  of  the  Ojibways  was  alleged  to 
grasp  and  handle  red-hot  stones,  and  to  bathe  his  hands  in 
boiling  maple  syrup  without  suffering  any  apparent  harm.6 
Howitt  reports,  that  in  Australia  at  initiations  “a  gommera 
[medicine  man]  will  as  chief  evidence  of  his  powers 
‘bring  up  out  of  himself  quartz  crystals,  or  pieces 
of  vein  quartz,  pieces  of  black  stone,  white  substances, 
pieces  of  flesh,  bone,  and  the  like.”  7  Among  some  of  the 

1  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I., XVI, p.  25.  2  Ibid.,  p.  57. 

8  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  229. 

4  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  456 

5  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  pp.  593—594. 

6  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur. Eth-, VII, p.  157. 

7  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  43. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  53 


Indian  tribes  of  North  America,  the  medicine  man  before 
treating  a  patient  produced  a  magical  stick,  and  demon¬ 
strated  his  supernatural  power  to  the  amazed  spectators.1 
Boas  writes  that  many  performances  of  the  angakoks  of 
the  Eskimos  require  much  skill  in  ventriloquism.  “Thus  in 
invoking  a  tornaq  flying  to  a  distant  place  they  can  imitate 
a  distinct  voice  by  a  sort  of  ventriloquism.  In  these  perfor¬ 
mances  they  always  have  the  lamps  extinguished,  and  hide 
themselves  behind  a  screen  hung  up  in  the  back  part  of 
the  hut.  The  tornaq ,  being  invoked,  is  heard  approach¬ 
ing  and  shaking  the  hut.  A  favorite  trick  is  to  have  their 
hands  tied  up,  and  a  thong  fastened  around  their  knees  and 
neck.  Then  they  begin  invoking  their  tornaq ,  and  all  of  a 
sudden  the  body  lies  motionless  while  the  soul  flies  to 
any  place  they  wish  to  visit.  After  returning,  the  thongs 
are  found  untied,  though  they  had  been  fastened 
by  firm  knots.  The  resemblance  of  this  performance  to 
the  experiments  of  modern  spiritualists  is  striking.” 2 
Hoffman,  quoting  from  a  paper  read  by  Colonel 
Garrick  Mallery  before  the  Anthropological  Society  of 
Washington,  records  an  interesting  feat  performed  by  an 
Ojibway  fessakkid  at  Eeech  Lake,  Minnesota,  about 
1858.  The  jessakkid,  securely  bound  by  a  rope,  with  his 
knees  and  wrists  together  and  with  his  face  upon  his 
knees,  was  placed  alone  in  a  lodge  erected  for  the  purpose. 
After  a  few  minutes  of  loud  noises  and  after  much  sway¬ 
ing  of  the  lodge,  the  spectators  heard  him  direct  another 
Ojibway,  who  had  wagered  that  the  jessakkid  could  not 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvQlker,”  p.  50. 

2  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  pp.  593—594. 


54 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


accomplish  this  feat,  to  get  the  rope  from  a  near-by  house. 
The  Ojibway  found  the  rope,  still  knotted,  in  the  place 
indicated,  and  on  his  return  beheld  the  jessakkid 
sitting  unbound  within  the  lodge.1  The  medicine  men  of 
both  the  Zufiis  and  the  Pawnees  swallowed  knives  and 
arrows,  and  could  apparently  kill  a  man  and  restore  him  to 
life.2  In  1761,  a  bloody  revolt  of  the  Mayas  broke  out  in  a 
number  of  villages  near  Valladolid,  Yucatan.  “It  was 
headed/’  Brinton  records,  “by  a  full-blooded  native, 
Jacinto  Can-Ek.  Jacinto  boldly  announced  himself  as  the 
high  priest  of  the  fraternity  of  sorcerers,  a  master  teacher 
of  magic,  and  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  prophet,  Chilain 
Balam,  ‘whose  words  cannot  fail/  In  a  stirring  appeal 
he  urged  his  fellow  countrymen  to  attack  the  Spaniards 
without  fear  of  the  consequences.  To  support  his  pre¬ 
tentions  he  took  a  piece  of  paper,  held  it  up  to  show  that 
it  was  blank,  folded  it  perhaps  the  fraction  of  a  minute, 
and  then  spread  it  out  covered  with  writing.  This  deft 
trick  convinced  his  simple-minded  hearers  of  the  truth 
of  his  claims,  and  they  rushed  to  arms.” 3 

Since  nature  men  are  so  very  susceptible  to  proofs  of  this 
description,  it  is  no  wonder  that  in  the  course  of  evolution 
there  should  appear  among  them  from  time  to  time  mem¬ 
bers  of  their  race  who  have  sufficient  mental  acumen  to 
take  advantage  of  the  disposition  to  ascribe  power  to 
the  apparently  miraculous,  and  who  by  the  exhibition  of 

1  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII, 
1891,  pp.  276—277. 

2  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.471. 

3  Brinton,  “Nagualism,”  p.  31. 


ch.ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  55 


juggling  performances  foist  in  upon  uncritical  minds  the 
convictions  that  the  religious  leaders  are  possessed  of 
spiritual  might,  and  consequently  deserving  of  a  place 
among  the  noble  company  of  those  chosen  for  divine 
honors. 

In  addition  to  his  physical  and  mental  peculiarities,  real 
or  feigned,  the  medicine  man  understands  how  to  create 
between  himself  and  his  fellow-men  other  dissimilarities 
which  are  calculated  to  fortify  his  position,  and  to  confirm 
and  strengthen  the  esteem  in  which  he  is  held  by  the  people. 
Since,  however,  he  usually  directs  his  attention  to  such 
activities  after  his  formal  induction  into  office,  the  discussion 
of  these  dissimilarities  is  reserved  for  a  later  chapter.1 

Two  other  elements  enter  into  the  making  of  the 
medicine  man:  the  preparation  and  training  or  the  novi¬ 
tiate,  and  the  initiation  or  the  public  installation  into  office. 

In  all  professions  a  prescribed  course  of  study  and 
instruction  is  required  antecedent  to  graduation.  Among 
primitive  peoples,  no  person  is  admitted  into  the  goodly 
fellowship  of  the  elect  until  the  older  shamans  are  satis¬ 
fied  that  he  is  qualified  for  the  place.  If  as  a  result  of 
self-preparation  a  man  is  able  to  stand  the  test,  he  is 
sometimes  accorded  the  privilege.  In  that  case  he 
must  fast,  and  spend  much  time  in  solitude  and 
prayer,  after  which  by  hallucinations  or  in  dreams, 
it  is  thought,  the  spirits  by  whose  power  he  does  his 
mighty  works  are  revealed.  No  further  training  is 
in  many  instances  required.  But  in  most  cases  the  novice 


*  Vide  Chap.  IV,  pp.  91-103. 


56 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


must  pass  a  greater  or  lesser  number  of  hours  under 
the  instruction  and  supervision  of  older  medicine  men, 
learning  their  secrets,  and  benefiting  by  their  experiences, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  convince  the  other  members  of  the 
craft  that  he  can  carry  on  the  work  of  the  profession. 
“One  Navaho  shaman,”  writes  Matthews,  “told  me  that 
he  had  studied  six  years  before  he  was  considered  com¬ 
petent  to  conduct  his  first  ceremony,  but  that  he  was  not 
perfect  then,  and  had  learned  much  afterwards.” 1 

Sometimes  the  older  medicine  men,  in  their  anxiety  to 
secure  recruits  for  “orders,”  make  it  their  business  to 
enumerate  to  the  youth  of  the  tribe  the  benefits  incident  to 
the  sacred  calling,  and  point  out  the  ease  with  which  it  is  to 
be  entered  in  order  to  prevail  upon  them  if  possible  to 
devote  their  lives  to  the  making  of  medicine.  When  a  young 
man  acquiesces,  the  promise  of  an  easy  entrance  must  be 
redeemed  lest  he  turn  back.  Among  the  Pima  Indians,  any 
man  could  enter  the  profession  if  he  was  instructed  by  a 
medicine  man,  and  “got  power,”  as  the  Pimas  said — or 
acquired  proficiency  in  a  few  tricks.  The  initiatory  cere- 
mon}^  was  not  elaborate.  The  aspirant  rested  on  all  fours 
before  an  old  medicine  man,  who  threw  at  him  four  sticks 
about  eight  inches  long.  If  the  youth  fell  to  the  ground,  the 
instructor  as  the  next  step  coughed  up  four  or  five  white 
balls  and  rubbed  them  into  the  breast  of  the  ypung  man. 
During  the  entire  time  that  he  was  engaged  in  learning  his 
work  the  prospective  shaman  had  to  stay  away  from  the 

1  Matthews,  “The  Night  Chant,  A  Navaho  Ceremony,”  Memoirs 
American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Preface,  p.  V. 


ch.  ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  57 


lodges  of  women,  and  keep  secret  the  fact  that  he  was  pre¬ 
paring  for  the  priesthood.  In  all,  the  period  of  his  novitiate 
lasted  from  two1  to  four  years.  The  usual  fee  for  the 
instruction  was  a  piece  of  calico  or  a  horse.1 

There  are  primitive  tribes  in  which  the  thoroughfare 
to  shamanistic  honors  is  difficult.  A  novice  among  the 
Shingu  Indians,  for  example,  must  for  months  “drink 
only  starch  extract,  eat  no  salt,  no  flesh,  fruit  or  fish,  and 
not  sleep.  He  must  bathe  much,  scratch  the  arm  and 
breast  until  the  blood  runs,  and  undergo  much  physical 
suffering.  His  chief  art  is  to  use  poisons.  With  these 
he  not  only  kills  others,  but  also  kills  himself  in  order  to 
transform  himself  into  other  forms.”  2  A  Cherokee  who 
aspired  to  the  priesthood  was  expected  in  former  times 
to  remember  a  formula  after  it  had  been  repeated  to  him 
but  once.  If  he  failed  to  remember,  he  was  considered 
unworthy  of  the  profession.3  The  Navaho  “chanter”  or 
medicine  man  was  obliged  to  devote  so  much  study  to 
the  mastery  of  every  great  ceremony  that  he  seldom  knew 
more  than  one  well.  4 

The  novitate  of  these  candidates  is  not  only 
arduous,  but  also  expensive,  for  as  a  rule  the 
neophyte  must  make  heavy  payments  for  instruction. 
Hoffman,  for  example,  writes  of  the  Menomini 
Indians,  “Each  remedy  must  be  paid  for  separately, 

1  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVII,  pp.  257—258. 

2  Steinen,  “Shingu  Tribes.”  After  the  Sumnerian  Collections. 

3  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth., 
1891,  p.  309. 

4  Matthews,  “The  Night  Chant,  a  Navaho  Ceremony,”  Memoirs 
American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  p.  3. 


58 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


as  no  two  preparations  or  roots  or  other  substances 
are  classed  together  as  one;  furthermore,  the  know¬ 
ledge  relating  to  different  remedies  is  possessed  by 
different  medicine  men,  each  of  whom  will  dispose  of  the 

properties  and  uses  thereof  for  a  consideration  only.”  1  Of 

* 

the  Ojibway  Indians  Hoffman  states:  “The  male  candidates 
for  the  mide  [one  of  the  classes  of  medicine  men]  are 
selected  usually  from  among  those  who  in  their  youth  were 
chosen  for  that  distinction.  This  selection  was  made  at  the 
period  of  ‘giving  a  name’  by  a  designated  mide  priest,  who 
thus  assumed  the  office  of  godfather.  From  that  date 
until  the  age  of  puberty  of  the  boy,  his  parents  gathered 
presents  with  which  to  defray  the  expenses  of  preliminary 
instruction  by  hired  mide  priests,  and  of  the  feasts  to  be 
given  to  all  those  who  might  attend  the  ceremonies  of 
initiation,  as  well  as  to  defray  the  cost  of  the  personal  ser¬ 
vices  of  the  various  medicine  men  directly  assisting  in  the 
initiation.  Frequently  the  collection  of  skins,  peltries, 
and  other  goods  that  have  to  be  purchased  involved  a 
candidate  hopelessly  in  debt;  but  so  great  was  the  desire 
on  the  part  of  some  Indians  to  become  acknowledged 
medicine  men  that  they  would  assume  obligations  that 
might  require  years  of  labor  in  hunting  to  liquidate ;  or,  if 
they  failed,  then  their  relatives  were  expected  to  assume 
the  responsibility  thus  incurred.”  2 

It  might  be  said  in  passing  that  like  physicians 
of  the  present  time  in  view  of  the  long,  difficult,  and 

1  Hoffman,  “The  Menomini  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1896,  p.  69. 


CH  11 _ THE  making  of  the  MEDICINE  MAN  59 

expensive  period  of  preparation  the  medicine  man,  as  will 
later  be  shown,  does  not  hesitate  to  charge  high  fees  for 
his  professional  services.1 

After  the  course  of  study  and  training  is  over,  the 
postulant  is  not,  however,  accepted  either  by  the  public 
or  by  the  brotherhood  as  duly  qualified  until  he  is  publicly 
initiated,  and  subjected  to  various  tests  to  prove  his  effi¬ 
ciency.  The  initiatory  rites  among  various  tribes  differ  in 
detail,  but  underneath  all  of  them  is  the  underlying  purpose 
•  of  publicly  inducting  the  aspirant  into  the  number  of  the 
“allied.”  The  particular  initiatory  ceremony  of  a  given  race 
reflects  the  mental  and  moral  qualities  of  that  race.  The 
established  rites  of  African  tribes,  for  instance,  are  not  on 
nearly  so  high  a  plane  as  those  of  the  North  American 
Indians,  as  the  following  examples  will  illustrate.  Among  the 
Akikuyu  of  British  East  Africa,  the  form  for  the  initiation 
of  the  medicine  man  is  childlike  in  character.  Routledge 
describes  the  ceremonies.  A  he-goat  is  killed,  and  its 
meat,  half-cooked,  “is  partaken  of  by  all  the  medicine 
men  present.  Collars  made  of  the  skin  of  the  right  leg  of 
the  goat  are  placed  around  the  necks  of  five  gourds, 

each  containing  a  different  drug . The  medicine  men 

present  have  brought  their  lot-gourds  [a  special  medicine 
gourd].  Each  empties  his  lot-gourd  on  the  skin  apart 
from  his  fellows.  The  neophyte  then  comes,  and  grasps  a 
handful  from  one  pile.  His  wife  follows  him,  and  does 
likewise.  With  the  two  handfuls  of  counters  thus  obtained, 
lots  are  cast  to  foretell  the  professional  career  of  the 

1  Vide  pp.  158—164. 


60 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


novice.  Finally,  the  contents  so  grasped  are  added  to 
those  already  in  the  lot-gourd  of  the  neophyte.  Custom 
requires  that  the  medicine  gourds  and  lot-gourds  of  the 
newly  received  medicine  man  shall  first  be  stopped  with 
banana  leaves,  but  the  next  day  or  later,  he  replaces  them 
with  the  tips  of  tails  of  cows.  The  long  hair  of  these 
forms  brushes  for  the  application  of  medicines,  when  it  is 
impossible  to  obtain  the  correct  plants  with  which  fc>  make 
brushes.  A  curse  has  to  be  brushed  off.  Each  medicine  man 
present  receives  one  skin  of  a  sheep  or  goat  for  being 
there.” 1  Among  the  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  the  proceedings  at 
the  time  of  the  initiation  are  more  worthy  of  respect.  There 
are  three  ceremonies.  The  first  is  “Besudi,”  which  seems 
to  mean  feeling,  touching.  The  manangs,  surrounding  the 
candidate  as  he  sits  on  a  veranda  as  though  he  were  ill,  “make 
medicine”  over  him  the  whole  night.  Bjy  this  time  he  is 
supposed  to  become  endowed  with  the  power  of  touch 
to  enable  him  to  feel  where  and  what  are  the  maladies 
of  the  body,  and  so  to  apply  the  requisite  charms.  It 
is  the  lowest  grade,  and  obtainable  by  the  cheapest  fees.2 
Henry  Ling  Roth  further  describes  the  other  two  cere¬ 
monies  as  follows:  “The  second  is  ‘Beklite*  or  opening.  After 
a  night  of  incantation,  the  manangs  lead  the  neophyte  into  a 
curtained  apartment,  where,  as  they  assert,  they  cut  his  head 
open,  take  out  his  brains,  wash  and  restore  them  in  order  to 
give  him  a  clean  mind  for  penetrating  into  the  mysteries 

1  Routledge,  ‘‘The  Akikuyu  of  British  East  Africa,”  pp. 

253—254. 

2  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I, 

pp.  280—281. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  61 


of  evil  spirits  and  the  intricacies  of  disease;  they  insert  gold 
dust  into  his  eyes  to  give  him  keenness  and  strength  of 
sight  powerful  enough  to  see  the  soul  wherever  it  may 
have  wandered  ;  they  plant  barbed  hooks  on  the  tips  of 
his  fingers  to  enable  him  to  seize  the  soul  and  hold  it 
fast;  and  lastly  they  pierce  his  heart  with  an  arrow  to 

make  him  tenderhearted . In  reality,  a  few  symbolic 

actions  representing  these  operations  are  all  that  is  done . . . 
The  man  is  now  a  fully  qualified  practitioner,  competent  to 
practice  all  parts  of  his  deceitful  craft.  He  is  now  no 
longer  an  ‘iban/  a  name  by  which  all  Dyaks  speak  of 
themselves,  he  is  a  manang.  He  is  lifted  into  a  different 
rank  of  being.  And  when  engaged  in  their  functions,  the 
manangs  make  a  point  of  emphasizing  this  distinction  by 
constant  use  of  the  two  words  in  contrast  to  each  other. 
A  third  grade  of  manang  is  obtainable  by  the  ambitious 
who  have  the  will  and  means  to  make  the  outlay; 
they  become  manang  bangun,  manang  enjun,  manangs 
waved  upon,  manangs  trampled  on.”  As  in  other 
cases,  this  involves  a  nocturnal  programme,  “but  the  spe¬ 
cialties  conferring  this  M.  D.  of  Dyak  quackery  and  im¬ 
posture  are  three.  At  the  beginning  of  the  performance, 
the  manangs  march  round  and  round  the  aspirant  for 
the  higher  honor,  and  wave  bunches  of  pinang  flower 
about  and  over  him,  an  action  which  all  over  Borneo,  I 
believe,  is  considered  of  great  medicinal  and  benedictional 
value  in  this  and  many  other  similar  connexions.  This 
is  the  Bangun .  Then  in  the  middle  of  the  veranda  a 
tall  jar  is  placed,  having  a  short  ladder  fastened  on  either 


62 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


side  of  it,  and  connected  at  the  top.  At  various  intervals 
during  the  night  the  manangs,  leading  the  new  candidate, 
march  him  up  one  ladder  and  down  the  other;  but  what 
that  action  is  supposed  to  symbolize,  or  what  special  value 
it  is  believed  to  confer,  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover. 
To  wind  up  this  play  of  mysteries,  the  man  lays  himself 
flat  on  the  floor,  and  the  manangs  walk  over  him,  and 
trample  upon  him  to  knock  into  him,  perhaps,  all  the 
manang  power  which  is  to  be  obtained.  This  is  the 
Enjun.  It  is  regarded  as  a  certificate  of  medical  superior¬ 
ity,  and  the  manang  who  has  passed  the  ordeal  will  on 
occasions  boast  that  he  is  no  ordinary  spirit-controller 
and  soul-catcher,  but  a  manang  bangun,  manang  enjun.”1 
Among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  the  initiatory  rites 
are  still  more  elaborate.  The  candidate  is  tested  by  fire; 
he  must  show  publicly  that  he  is  possessed  by  a 
spirit,  and  make  predictions  which  eventually  come  to  pass. 
Ellis  thus  describes  an  initiation  among  those  people 
in  1886,  held  after  a  novitiate  of  two  years.  Amid  singing, 
beating  of  drums,  and  a  continuous  roar  of  musketry,  “the 
new  priests  and  priestesses  were  taken  down  to  a  spot  near 
the  beach . . .  and  here  a  sheep  was  sacrificed  and  the 
blood  sprinkled  around.  Next  day ...  hundreds  of  people 
were  formed  up  in  a  kind  of  hollow  square,  all  facing  in¬ 
wards.  In  the  inner  rank  of  this  square  were  the  new 
priests  and  priestesses  seated  upon  stools.  The  whole  sur¬ 
face  of  their  bodies,  with  the  exception  of  the  lips,  eyes, 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I, 

pp.  280—281. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  63 


eyebrows,  and  crown  of  the  head,  was  smeared  with  some 
white  substance,  which,  from  its  being  much  whiter  in 
color  than  the  ordinary  white  clay,  appeared  to  be  chalk. 
The  effect  was  ghastly  in  the  extreme . . .  With  the  ex¬ 
ception  of  the  children,  all  wore  long  necklaces  peculiar 
to  the  priesthood,  which  were  composed  of  black  and  white 
beads,  with  an  occasional  long  bead  of  red  cornelian  or 
a  small  disk  of  gold.  The  men  had  the  skull  clean  shaven 
with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  small  circular  patches 
of  hair,  and  to  each  patch  was  attached  a  gold  medallion 
of  the  size  of  a  florin . The  women  wore  gold  orna¬ 

ments  in  their  hair,  and  all  of  both  sexes  wore  white 
cloths.  The  drums  struck  up,  and  a  crowd  of  men  and 
youths  behind  the  drummers  raised  a  song  in  honor  of 

one  of  the  tutelary  deities _ After  a  time  one  of  the  new 

priests,  who  was  sitting  down,  began  to  tremble  and  roll 
his  eyes.  A  god  was  beginning  to  take  possession  of  him. 
Two  or  three  men  at  once  went  to  him  and  removed 
the  gold  ornaments  from  his  head  and  some  bracelets  of 
beads  as  a  precautionary  measure  to  prevent  loss,  and 
then  bound  each  wrist  with  a  d  d  o  r.  In  the  meantime 
the  trembling  increased,  and  soon  the  priest  was  shudder¬ 
ing  as  in  an  ague  fit . . .  Next,  with  open  mouth,  protrud¬ 
ing  tongue,  and  with  eyes  widely  rolling,  he  worked  him¬ 
self,  still  seated  and  quivering  violently,  into  the  middle 
of  the  arena.  There  he  suddenly  leaped  in  the  air,  extend¬ 
ing  his  arms  over  his  head  and  the  quivering  ceased.  His 
eyes  were  closed,  his  tongue  hung  from  his  mouth,  and 
with  the  slow  and  uncertain  gait  of  a  drunken  man  he 


64 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


walked  backwards  and  forwards.  After  a  short  time  he 
directed  his  steps  towards  one  side  of  the  square  and 
passed  out,  the  spectators  making  way  for  him,  and  re¬ 
turned  in  a  few  minutes  without  his  white  cloth,  but  with 
a  short  cotton  skirt  depending  from  the  waist  to  the  knee, 
and  ornamented  with  two  narrow  flounces  at  the  waist. 
Still  with  closed  eyes  and  appearing  half  dazed,  he  walked 
to  and  fro;  then  with  a  sudden  spring  he  faced  the 
drums,  and,  throwing  his  arms  in  the  air,  he  waved  his 
reed  brush.  Next,  he  stooped  forward,  and  placing  both 
hands  upon  a  large  drum,  hung  his  head  down  between 
his  arms,  shook  it  sideways,  and  uttered  a  gurgling, 
choking  noise.  This  was  the  god  preparing  to  give  utter¬ 
ance.  Then  he  sprang  upright,  and  in  a  hoarse,  unnatural 
voice,  said:  ‘I  am  come.  I  am  So-and-so naming  a  tutelary 
deity.  The  drums  at  once  struck  up  the  rhythm  in  honor 
of  this  deity,  the  singers  commenced  singing,  and  the  priest 
began  to  dance.  After  a  few  movements  he  stopped,  and, 
putting  his  head  on  one  side,  raised  his  hand  to  his  ear. 
This  signified  that  the  god  who  now  possessed  him  could 
not  hear  the  song  in  his  honor:  the  singers  were  not 
singing  loudly  enough,  or  distinctly  enough,  or  the 
particular  rhythm  of  the  drums  peculiar  to  the  god  was  not 
sufficiently  marked.  The  songs  and  the  drumming  stopped. 
Then  after  a  few  seconds  a  fresh  start  was  made;  the  priest 
danced  a  few  steps  and  again  stopped.  The  expression  of 
acute  and  rapt  attention,  as  though  he  were  straining  every 
nerve  to  listen,  was  exceedingly  well  assumed.  These  false 
starts  were  repeated  several  times,  until  at  last  the  god 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  65 


appeared  to  hear  satisfactorily,  for  the  priest  danced 
furiously,  bounding  in  the  air,  twisting  round  and  round, 
turning  his  body  now  here,  now  there,  and  tossing  his 
arms  wildly  about,  throughout  the  whole  performance 
keeping  perfect  time  to  the  rhythm  of  the  drums.  The 
exercise  was  most  violent,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
performer  was  streaming  with  perspiration.  After  some 
little  time  he  threw  his  arms  over  his  head,  and 
then  waved  his  brush  over  the  drummers.  This  signified 
that  the  first  god  had  left  him  and  another  had 
entered  him.  The  entire  performance  was  then  repeated. 
It  should  be  said  that  every  now  and  then  he  let  fall 
words  or  sentences,  spoken  in  a  croaking  or  guttural  voice. 
These  utterances  were  the  words  of  the  possessing  god, 
and . . .  referred,  some  to  past  events,  and  some  to  future. 
In  the  latter  case  they  were  sufficiently  vague  and  am¬ 
biguous,  for  it  is  by  these  that  the  priest  is  chiefly  tested; 
and  should  he  make  any  definite  and  clear  prediction 
which  afterwards  should  be  falsified  by  events,  he  would 
be  driven  out  of  the  society  as  an  impostor,  unless  he 
could  give  some  satisfactory  explanation.  One  such  utter¬ 
ance  I  heard  was:  ‘If  the  gods  do  not  help,  there  will  be 
much  sickness  soon/  Now  if  sickness  ensued,  it  would 
be  because  the  gods  would  not  help ;  if  it  did  not  ensue,  it 
would  be  because  they  had  helped.  After  the  first  priest 
had  retired,  all  of  the  novices  went  in  turn  through  the 
same  performances.  Their  features  during  possessions 
were  distorted  beyond  recognition,  but  when  seen  in  re¬ 
pose  they  were  not  of  a  bad  type,  and  seemed  to  pro- 

6 


66 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


mise  intelligence  above  the  average.  For  the  novices  had 
not  commenced  that  career  of  imposture,  vice,  and  de¬ 
bauchery,  which  almost  invariably,  and  especially  in  case 
of  the  priestesses,  leaves  its  impression  upon  the  features 
of  the  priesthood.” 1 

The  ordeal  of  fire  among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples, 
according  to  Ellis,  was  a  test  of  purity;  if  the  priests  and 
priestesses  had  refrained  from  sexual  intercourse  duringthe 
period  of  retirement  required  of  candidates  for  the  priest¬ 
hood,  they  would,  it  was  believed,  receive  no  injury  from 
the  flames.  The  priest  when  thus  tested  was  made  to 
step  into  a  clear  space  surrounded  by  glowing  embers 
that  formed  a  circle  three  yards  in  diameter.  Ellis 
continues,  “Immediately  rum,  kerosene  oil,  and  other 
inflammable  liquids  are  thrown  upon  the  embers,  so 
that  the  flames  leap  high  in  the  air,  sometimes  as  high  as 
the  head  of  a  man.  After  an  interval  the  process  is 
repeated  a  second  and  a  third  time,  and  the  ordeal  is  over. 
If  the  candidate  has  been  able  to  stay  in  the  circle  each 
time  till  the  flames  have  subsided,  and  has  sustained  no 
injury,  it  is  believed  that  he  is  pure,  and  that  the  gods 
have  protected  him  from  the  fire.  If  he  has  been  compelled 
by  the  intense  heat  to  leap  out,  or  if  he  has  sustained  a 
burn  of  any  kind,  he  is  not  pure.  This  test  is  not 
submitted  to  while  the  candidate  is  naked,  and  persons 
subjected  to  it  always  wrap  themselves  up  closely  in  their 
clothes.” 2  If  an  aspirant  cannot  stand  the  test  of  fire, 
he  must  offer  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  and  receive  pardon  for 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  131—136.  2  Ibid.,  p.  138. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  67 


his  transgression . Very  few  priests  are  able  to  come 

from  the  fire  unscathed.  Most  of  the  priestesses  confess 
that  they  have  been  unchaste,  and  do  not  undertake  the 
ordeal,  thus  through  making  sacrifices  that  cost  but  five 
or  six  dollars  avoiding  much  pain.1* 

Among  the  Ojibways,  there  were  three  classes  of 
medicine  men — the  wabeno ,  the  jessakkid  and  the  mide. 
Candidates  were  initiated  into  each  class  with  impressive 
forms  and  ceremonies.  In  the  Midewiwin,  or  society 
of  the  mide,  there  were  four  degrees,  into  each  of 
which  the  candidate  was  inducted  as  he  attained  suitable 
proficiency.  The  initiation  into  the  fourth  degree  was  most 
elaborate.  For  several  days  beforehand,  the  aspirant,  after 
a  sweat  bath,  went  each  morning  with  his  preceptor  to 
the  four  entrances  of  the  Mide wigan,  and  deposited 
offerings.  On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  the  other 
priests  visited  the  candidate  and  the  preceptor  in  the  sweat 
lodge,  where  they  engaged  in  ceremonial  smoking.  Such 
a  smoke-offering,  in  honor  of  “Ki  tshi  Man  ido”  was  the 
first  ceremony  of  the  day  of  initiation,  and  was  followed 
by  an  original  song  sung  by  the  candidate.  Then  the 
initiation  began.  The  priests,  arranged  in  line  in  order  of 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  139. 

*  Note :  —  It  might  not  be  out  of  place  to  remark  here  that  the  author, 
in  a  wide  range  of  ethnographical  reading,  lighted  upon  some  very 
interesting  magazine  articles  on  “Indian  Medicine,”  and  “Curiosities 
of  Therapeutics,”  in  the  Popular  Science  Monthly  for  September 
1886,  and  The  Therapeutic  Gazette  for  April  1887,  from  the  pen  of 
Dr.  G.  Archie  Stockwell.  Some  of  the  statements  of  Dr.  Stockwell 
were  striking  and  even  sensational;  but  the  writer  could  not  check 
them  up,  and  so,  after  much  deliberation  and  with  considerable 
reluctance,  he  has  excluded  this  material,  which  had  he  been  sure 
of  its  scientific  character  would  have  been  most  pertinent. 


68 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


rank,  marched  toward  the  eastern  entrance  of  the  Mide- 
wigan,  where  the  first  four  in  turn  peeping  through  the 
door,  viewed  six  malevolent  manidos  that  were  supposed 
to  be  within, — the  panther,  turtle,  wolverine,  fox,  wolf, 
and  bear.  The  candidate,  impersonating  the  good  Bear 
Manido,  now  crawled  on  hands  and  knees  toward  the 
main  entrance;  then  impersonating  an  archer  manido , 
took  a  bow  and  four  arrows,  and  feigned  four  times  to  shoot 
toward  the  interior  of  the  lodge.  The  last  time  he  sent 
an  arrow  within,  and  rushed  after  it  as  if  pursuing  the 
spirits.  He  repeated  these  actions  at  the  other  three  doors 
of  the  wigwam.  Then  the  chief  priest  said  to  him,  “Now; 
is  the  time  to  take  the  path  that  hath  no  end.  Now  is 
the  time.  I  shall  inform  you  of  that  which  I  was  told — the 
reason  I  live.”  The  second  priest  added,  “The  reason  I 
now  advise  you  is  that  you  may  heed  him  when  he  speaks 
to  you.”  After  a  chant  and  after  the  wigwam  had  been 
cleared  of  evil  spirits  by  exorcism,  the  four  chief  priests 
performed  the  next  ceremonies;  each  of  the  three  inferiors 
shot  his  migis  into  the  breast  of  the  candidate,  and  the 
chief  priest  shot  his  into  the  forehead  of  the  novice.  The 
candidate  then  spit  out  a  migis  shell  previously  concealed 
in  his  mouth,  and  this  ended  the  initiation.  After 
distributing  presents,  he  went  in  turn  to  each  of 
his  fellows,  saying,  “Thank  you  for  giving  to  me 
life.”  A  curious  ceremony  ensued  in  which  the  priests 
feigned  to  shoot  their  migis  shells  at  one  another, 
or  to  swallow  and  recover  them.  A  feast,  furnished  by  the 
newly  elected  member  and  prepared  by  his  female  relatives, 
followed  the  ceremony.  Smoking  and  conversation 


ch.ii  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  69 


occupied  the  remainder  of  the  day  until  sunset,  when  every 
one  quietly  departed.1 

The  fourth  degree  of  the  Midewiwin  initiatory  rites 
constituted  the  most  important,  as  certainly  the  most 
spectacular,  of  all  the  ceremonies  of  the  Ojibways;  and 
it  serves  to  show  the  degree  of  intellectual  development 
which  those  Indians  had  attained,  possessing  as  they  did 
the  ability  of  elaborating  detailed  and  striking  ceremonials. 
A  comparison  between  this  ritual  and  that  of  the  Akikuyu, 
for  example,  would  form  an  excellent  subject  for  anthro- 
pogeographical  inquiry. 

SUMMARY.  In  this  chapter,  the  making  of  the  medicine  man 
has  been  discussed.  It  has  been  found  that  since  in  the 
thought  of  primitive  man  malicious  spirits  are  responsible 
for  all  the  ills  of  life,  the  chief  object  of  the  savage  is  to  bring 
about  a  change  of  relationship  between  heaven  and  earth. 
But  because  the  struggle  between  mortals  and  immortals  is 
unequal,  the  necessity  arises  of  a  specialist,  who  by  reason 
of  a  spiritual  nature  is  competent  to  act  as  intermediary. 
Qualifications  for  the  office  of  shaman  are  recog¬ 
nized  in  a  variety  of  ways.  The  easiest  explanation 
of  the  unusual  in  nature  is  that  of  spirit  possession. 
This  assumption  saves  the  labor  of  reflecting  and  the 
anguish  of  inquiring.  The  savage,  therefore,  to  whom  the 
thought  and  act  of  exertion  are  never  agreeable,  refers 
physical  and  mental  deformity  to  the  imaginary  environ- 

1  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth., 
VII,  pp.  258-274. 


70 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


rnent,  and  looks  upon  the  unfortunate  person  in  whom 
such  peculiarities  are  manifested  as  being  possessed  by 
divinities.  So  it  sometimes  happens  that  the  victim  of  major 
hysteria,  epilepsy,  or  the  like,  for  example,  is  regarded 
as  marked  out  by  heaven  to  represent  the  gods  on  earth.  In 
other  cases  the  qualification  and  office  of  medicine  man 
are  handed  down  from  father  to  son.  When  the  supply  of 
candidates  is  too  small  to  meet  the  demand,  the  older  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  profession,  jealous  of  the  reputation  of  their 
order,  either  by  the  exertion  of  their  influence  on  parents  or 
by  the  appeal  to  the  element  of  self-interest  in  the  youth  of 
the  tribe,  often  succeed  in  inducing  a  goodly  number  of 
young  men,  and  not  infrequently  young  women,  to  allow 
themselves  to  be  trained  in  the  mysteries  of  the  sacred  rites. 
Among  the  North  American  Indians,  the  most  frequent 
reason  for  selecting  an  individual  to  the  office  is  the 
obvious  wish  on  his  part  to  acquire  knowledge, 
and  his  willingness  to  pay  the  price.  But  an 
aspirant  must  make  full  proof  of  his  capabilities.  The  per¬ 
formance  of  a  feat  of  dexterity  will  often  have  this 
effect.  In  some  instances  these  achievements  are  mere 
tricks  of  legerdemain,  as  among  the  Pima  Indians,  whose 
medicine  men  cause  their  people  to  wonder  and  admire  by 
holding  hot  coals  of  fire  in  their  hands  and  mouths,  always 
being  careful,  however,  to  have  a  layer  of  ash  or  mud  next 
to  the  skin.1  The  performances  of  the  shaman  have  been 
known  to  impress  members  of  the  white  race.  But  in  order 
to  leave  no  possible  doubt  as  to  his  qualifications  the 

1  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  pp.  259  ff. 


ch.  n  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN  71 


candidate  may  develop  clairvoyant  and  psychic  conditions 
by  means  of  drugs,  gyrations,  fasting,  and  self-inflicted 
physical  tortures.  He  often  blundered  upon  scientific 
truth,  as  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  of  recent  observations 
and  investigations  showing  that  some  of  the  methods 
to  which  he  resorted  have  the  effect  of  producing 
anemic  disarrangement  or  disorganization  of  the  great 
nerve  centers,  enabling  the  subject  to  manifest  wonderful 
powers.  According  to  Spencer,  the  medicine  man  was 
the  originator  of  the  professions  and  sciences.1  Among  our 
Indians,  he  is  usually  the  ablest  man  intellectually  speaking 
in  his  group,2  and  is  frequently  the  best  specimen  of 
physical  manhood  in  his  tribe. 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  German  Edition  of  1897, 
IV,  pp.  223-368. 

2  Harper’s  Weekly,  September  12,  1914. 


CHAPTER  III 


MEDICINE  WOMEN. 

Hitherto  men  have  been  spoken  of  as  shamans.  But 
shamans  are  not  always  men;  women  sometimes 
are  considered  superior  enough  to  attain  the  coveted 
position.  In  “Die  Medizin  der  Naturvolker,”  Doctor 
Bartels  asserts  that  this  is  the  case  among  the 
Ashanti,  among  the  negroes  of  Loango,  in  Lubuku, 
in  Zululand,  in  Borneo,  in  Australia,  in  Siberia,  and 
among  some  of  our  Indian  tribes.1  In  the  Ojibway 
nation,  the  “Midewiwin,”  so-called,  was  the  society  of  the 
mide  or  shamans,  who  might  be  either  men  or  women,  and 
whose  number  was  not  fixed.2  In  Central  Australia,  “in 
connexion  with  medicine  men  and  women  alike,  restric¬ 
tions  such  as  those  applying  to  Mura  are  laid  on  one 
side  during  the  actual  exercise  of  their  profession.”  3 
Among  the  Creeks,  women  doctors  were  as  numerous  as 
male  doctors;  among  the  Dakotas,  they  were  nearly  as 
powerful  as  the  male  doctors  in  each  village.4  Schultze 
says  that  in  the  Dakota  nation,  “medicine  men  and 
medicine  women  can  cause  ghosts  to  appear  on  occasion.”  5 
Nansen  reports  of  the  Eskimos  that  angakoks  might  be  of 

1  Op.  cit.,  p.  53. 

2  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth.,VII,  p.164. 

3  Spencer  and  Gillen,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,” 
p.  530.  (Note). 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  p.  53. 

6  Schultze,  “Fetischismus,”  pp.  148—149. 


ch.  m 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


73 


either  sex,  though  it  would  seem  the  weaker  sex  has 
never  had  so  many  representatives  in  the  profession  as  the 
stronger.1  Bourke,  quoting  “The  Arctic  Searching  Expe¬ 
dition,”  by  Richardson,  says,  ‘“Both  medicine  men  and 
medicine  women  are  to  be  found  among  the  Eskimos/”  2 
According  to  De  Groot,  in  China,  the  exorcists  “were 
of  a  certain  class  of  priests  or  priestesses  entirely  possessed 
by  spirits  of  Yang,”  and  engaged  in  invoking  the  ancestral 
spirits,  doctoring  the  sick,  and  bringing  rain.3  Among 
the  Saoras  of  Madras,  the  kudang  is  the  medium  of 
communication  between  the  ancestral  spirits  and  the 
living.  Some  kudangs  are  women.4  In  Korea,  says 
a  writer,  “women  are  not  shamanesses  by  birth,  but  of 
late  years  it  has  been  customary  for  the  girl  children  of  the 
sorceress  to  go  out  with  her  and  learn  her  arts,  which  is 
tending  to  give  the  profession  an  hereditary  aspect.  It  is 
now  recruited  partly  from  hysterical  girls,  and  partly 
from  among  women  who  seek  the  office  for  a  liveli¬ 
hood,  but  outside  of  these  sources  a  daimon  may  take 
possession  of  any  woman,  wife  or  widow,  rich  or  poor, 
plebeian  or  patrician,  and  compel  her  to  serve  him.” 5 
Concerning  the  former  customs  of  the  New  Hebrides, 
it  is  said  that  wizards  were  analogous  to  modern 
spiritualistic  mediums.  The  “tenues”  or  spirits  controlled 
them.  Women  as  well  as  men  had  communications  with 

1  Nansen,  “Eskimo  Life,”  p.  284.  (Note). 

2  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  469. 

3  De  Groot,  “Religious  System  of  China/’  I,  pp.  40—41. 

4  J.  A.  Soc.  of  Bombay,  I,  p.  247. 

5  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  423. 


74 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  spirits.1  Among  the  Negritos  of  Zambales,  Philippine 
Islands,  both  sexes  may  belong  to  the  mediquillos 
[native  doctors],  who  are  known  as  “magna-anito,” 
and  are  called  in  cases  of  mild  illness  to  expel 
the  spirit  and  thus  cure  the  patient.2  Among  the 
Araucanians,  writes  Smith,  “the  office  of  medicine  man, 
though  generally  usurped  by  males,  does  not  appertain  to 
them  exclusively,  and  at  the  time  of  our  visit  the  one  most 
extensively  known  was  a  black  woman,  who  had  acquired 
the  most  unbounded  influence  by  shrewdness,  joined  to  a 
hideous  personal  appearance,  and  a  certain  mystery  with 
which  she  was  invested.”  3 

Ancient  historians  attribute  the  invention  of  medicine 
to  the  gods.  This  is  due  to  the  anthropomorphic  concep¬ 
tion  of  the  divinities.  The  gods  were  once  human  beings. 
The  medicine  man  is  often  regarded  as  a  god4  even 
before  death,  and  after  his  deification  he  is  believed  to 
be  more  powerful  than  ever.  When  he  goes  to  the  spirit 
world  he  retains  all  the  powers  and  attributes  which  he 
had  on  earth.  Hb  was  a  healer  while  living;  since  death 
he  is  more  intensely  skilled  in  the  art  of  healing.  He  in¬ 
spires  his  servants,  thereby  giving  them  the  knowledge 
and  power  to  prosecute  the  work  which  he  began.  The 
worship  by  the  ancients  of  female  deities  points  back 
to  the  existence  of  the  Matriarchy.5  The  fact  that  to  those 

1  Leggatt,  “Malekula,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  of  Science,  1892, 
p.  707. 

2  Reed,  “Negritos  of  Zambales,”  pp.  65—66. 

3  Smith,  “Araucanians,”  pp.  238—239. 

4  Vide  pp.  135 — 136. 

5  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  pp.  76  and  260. 


cH.ui _ MEDICINE  WOMEN  75 

goddesses  were  attributed  important  relationships  to  the 
healing  art  indicates  that  they  were  medicine  women 
when  living.  In  Egypt,  peculiar  medical  skill  was  assigned 
to  Isis,  the  wife  and  sister  of  Osiris.  Tradition  had  it 
that  she  gave  unequivocal  proof  of  her  power  by  restoring 
Horus,  her  son,  to  life.  She  was  believed  to  have  dis^ 
covered  several  remedies,  and  the  materia  medica  of  the 
time  of  Galen  contained  drugs  that  were  named  in  her 
honor.  In  the  esoteric  language  of  the  priestly  physicians 
of  Egypt,  for  example,  the  vervain  was  called  “the  tears) 
of  Isis.”1 

Among  the  Greeks,  Hygeia,  daughter  of  Aesculapius, 
god  of  medicine,  was  worshipped  in  the  temples  of  Argos 
as  the  goddess  of  both  physical  and  mental  health.  Hera, 
under  the  name  of  Lucina,  was  held  to  preside  over  the 
birth  of  children,  and  was  thought  to  possess  healing 
power.  Medea  and  Circe,  according  to  tradition,  for  the 
purpose  of  counteracting  the  effects  of  poisons,  made  use 
of  herbs  in  their  enchantments ;  while  Ocyroe,  the  daughter 
of  Cheiron,  the  Centaur,  was  famed  for  her  skill  in 
leechcraft.  This  information,  although  derived  from  fabled 
story,  serves  the  important  purpose  of  preserving  in  alle¬ 
goric  form  facts  from  which  the  inference  is  to  be  drawn 
that  in  remote  antiquity  women  were  engaged  in  the 
practice  of  medicine.2 

While  the  laws  and  customs  of  the  Romans  forbade 
women  to  practice  medicine,  yet  Pliny  and  others  have 
handed  down  the  names  of  a  few  of  the  gentler  sex 

1  Reference  lost.  2  Reference  lost. 


76 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


who  engaged  with  distinction  in  the  curing  of  diseases. 
Among  the  names  thus  preserved  are  Salpe,  Sotira,  and 
Favilla.  Nothing  definite  is  known,  however,  regarding 
the  work  of  these  female  practitioners.1 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  when  every  kind  of  knowledge 
was  steeped  more  or  less  in  superstition,  women  as  well 
as  men  yielded  to  the  pressure  of  their  times,  and  exercised 
the  double  vocation  of  sorceresses  and  healers  of  the 
sick.2 

The  Universities  of  Cordova,  Salamanca,  and  Alcala 
conferred  the  doctorate  upon  many  women  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  In  England,  during  the  seventeenth  century, 
Anna  Wolly  and  Elizabeth  of  Kent  engaged  in  the  pre¬ 
paration  of  drugs,  and  published  books  on  medical  sub¬ 
jects.  In  Germany,  such  women  as  the  Duchess  of  Trop- 
pau,  Catherine  Tissheim,  Helena  Aldegunde,  and  Frau 
Erxleben  took  up  the  study  of  medicine.  The  latter  was 
one  of  the  most  successful  women  doctors  of  her  time, 
and  was  eminent  for  her  skill  and  erudition.3 

These  instances  are  mentioned  to  direct  attention  to 
the  fact  that  while  the  office  of  medicine  man  always  has 
been  and  still  is  more  or  less  restricted  to  the  sterner  sex, 
yet  cases  are  on  record  in  all  stages  of  the  history  of  the 
world  in  which,  through  force  of  circumstances,  or,  more 
often,  through  force  of  character,  women  have  frequently 

1  Bolton,  “Early  Practice  of  Medicine  by  Women,”  Popular 
Science  Monthly,  XVIII,  p.  192. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  191. 

3  Ibid.,  p.  199. 


cH.ni  MEDICINE  WOMEN  77 


acquired  surgical  skill,  and  often  have  pursued  successfully 
the  divine  art  of  healing. 

What  are  the  functions  of  medicine  women,  and  what 
is  their  social  standing  in  the  group?  In  comparison  with 
the  shamans,  the  shamanesses  sometimes  are  not  so  im¬ 
portant  either  in  point  of  numbers,  or  in  point  of  functions 
to  be  performed,  or  in  point  of  respect  accorded.  In  other 
cases  they  are  apparently  on  an  equality  with  men;  while 
in  other  societies,  the  ministrations  of  the  “weaker  vessel” 
are  so  highly  regarded  that  the  most  powerful  and  in¬ 
fluential  healers  are  women. 

The  following  instances  show  that  numerically  women 
often  rank  second  to  men.  In  Central  Australia  females 
occasionally,  although  rarely,  become  doctors.1  Among 
the  Eskimos,  as  already  noted  (pp.  72 — 73  supra),  though 
the  angakoks  might  be  of  either  sex,  the  women 
apparently  have  always  been  in  the  minority.2  With 
the  aborigines  of  both  American  Continents,  fewer 
women  than  men  attain  the  sacred  office,  and  in 
some  cases  noi  mention  whatever  is  made  of  female 
doctors.3  Among  the  Australians  and  Polynesians,  there  is 
a  very  strong  tendency  toward  the  exclusion  of  females 
from  the  class  of  shamans.4  In  most  Land  Dyak  tribes  on 
the  contrary,  while  there  are  five  or  six  priests  in  each 
district,  in  some  parts  of  the  country  half  of  the  femalle 
population  are  included  under  the  name  of  priestesses, 

1  Spencer  and  Gillen,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  p.  526. 

2  Nansen,  “Eskimo  Life,”  p.  469. 

3  Dixon,  “Some  Aspects  of  American  Shamanism,”  Jour.  Am. 

Folk  Lore,  Jan.  1908,  p.  2.  4  Ibid. 


78 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


but  most  of  them  never  become  skilful  enough  to  practice 
their  profession.1 

That  man  has  in  some  instances  exercised  his  dominat¬ 
ing  disposition  and  reduced  woman  to  a  secondary  place  in 
the  practice  of  the  priestly  art,  and  that  she,  true  to  her  nature, 
has  passively  accepted  what  was  left  her  is  quite  evident. 
Among  the  Dakotas,  it  is  stated  that  the  shamanesses 
were  next  to  the  male  doctors.2  Spencer  says  concerning 
the  Chippeways,  “‘Women  may  practice  soothsaying,  but 
the  higher  religious  functions  are  performed  only  by 
men.'”  3  Among  the  Wascow  Indians,  the  medicine  women 
are  not  feared  so  much  as  men,  and  they  are  not  thought  to 
have  such  absolute  power  over  life  and  death.4  In  Van¬ 
couver,  women  doctors  were  sent  for  only  in  cases  of  less 
serious  sickness.  But  their  standing  is  above  the  common 
women  in  the  tribe.5  Among  the  Tapantunnuasu  in 
Central  Celebes,  shamanesses  cannot  marry,  but  they  enjoy 
high  standing  and  are  supported  by  their  village  associates.6 
In  Central  America,  medicine  women  of  all  women  are 
allowed  in  the  bath  houses,7  and  in  Southern  California, 
though  they  were  not  absolutely  entitled  to  material  recom¬ 
pense  for  their  services,  they  expected  and  generally  received 
presents.  Powers  thus  tells  of  a  medicine  woman  called  to 
extract  an  arrow-head  from  the  body  of  a  white  man.  Fan- 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  pp. 
259—260. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  53. 

3  Bourke,  Bar.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  469,  Quoting  Spencer’s  “Descriptive 
Sociology.” 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  53. 

5  Ibid/  6  Ibid.  7  Ibid. 


ch.  m 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


79 


tastically  attired,  she  walked  round  the  patient,  chanting 
and  touching  the  wound  with  her  wand.  “Finally  she 
stooped  down  and  applied  her  lips  to  the  wound ;  and  after 
a  little  while  she  ejected  a  flint  from  her  mouth  (pre¬ 
viously  placed  there  of  course),  and  assured  the  man  he 
would  now  speedily  recover.  For  this  humbug,  so  trans¬ 
parent,  and  yet  so  insinuatingly  and  elegantly  administered, 
she  expected  no  less  a  present  than  a  gaily-figured  ban¬ 
dana  handkerchief  and  five  pounds  of  sugar.”1 

In  some  tribal  groups,  there  is  in  existence  among  the 
doctors  a  division  of  labor,  so  to  speak,  the  specialty  of  the 
women  lying  in  a  different  province  from  that  of  the  men. 
In  Korea,  the  male  doctors  attend  to  the  duties  of  ex¬ 
orcism,  while  it  is  the  work  of  their  female  colleagues  to 
propitiate  the  spirits.  The  exercise  of  these  functions 
by  the  woman  doctor  is  occasional  as  well  as  periodic.  The 
periodic  exercise  is  in  some  instances  public  and  in 
other  cases  private.  Both  forms  are  celebrated  with 
appropriate  ceremonies,  but  the  central  figure  always 
is  the  shamaness,  who  first  discovers  which  god 
must  be  propitiated,  and  then  offers  the  proper 
oblation  to  secure  the  continuance  of  the  goodwill  of  the 
spirit.2  Among  the  Karok,  according  to  Powers,  there 
are  two  classes  of  medicine  men — the  root  doctors  and  the 
barking  doctors.  The  barking  doctor  is  generally  a  woman, 
“and  it  is  her  office  to  diagnose  the  case,  which  she  does 
by  squatting  down  on  her  haunches  like  a  dog  and  bark- 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contribut.  to  North  Am.  Ethn., 
Ill,  p.  131. 

2  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  410. 


80 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


ing  for  hours  together.  She  is  more  important  than  the 
root  doctor.  In  addition  to  her  diagnostic  offices,  she  doc¬ 
tors  ‘poisoned'  cases,  which  are  very  many  among  these 
people.  They  think  they  often  fall  victims  to  witches  who 
cause  some  noxious  reptile  or  animal  to  grow  through  the 
skin  into  the  viscera.  The  barking  doctor  first  discovers 
where  the  animal  or  reptile  is  located,  and  then  sucks  the 
place  until  the  skin  is  broken  and  the  blood  flows.  Then 
she  administers  an  emetic  to  herself,  and  vomits  up  a 
frog  or  some  other  animal,  which  she  pretends  was 
sucked  out  of  the  patient."1  Speaking  of  a  medicine  woman 
of  another  tribe,  Powers  says,  “This  priestess  is  really  only 
a  shamaness,  corresponding  nearly  to  the  female  barking 
doctor  of  the  Karok.  She  is  supposed  to  have  communi¬ 
cation  with  the  devil,  and  she  alone  is  potent  over  cases 
of  witch-craft  and  witch-poisoning." 2  In  Sarawak  and 
British  North  Borneo,  the  medicine  man  is  summoned  in 
cases  of  sickness,  while  the  office  of  the  medicine  women, 
as  Roth  says,  “consists  chiefly  in  doctoring  the  rice  paddy 
by  means  of  their  dull,  monotonous  chants."  3 

From  the  earliest  times  women  have  specialized  suc¬ 
cessfully  in  the  science  of  gynecology.  While  it  is  true 
that  in  ancient  Egypt  the  priest  physicians  sedulously 
concealed  their  superior  knowledge  from  an  ignorant 
people,  and  especially  from  women,  yet  the  account 

of  the  birth  of  Moses  goes  to  show  that  female 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contribut.  to  North  Am. 
Ethn.,  Ill,  p.  26. 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  67-68. 

3  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I, 
pp.  259—260. 


ch.  m 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


81 


gynecologists  were  not  unknown  among  the  Egyptians. 
Concerning  the  Apache,  Bourke  writes,  “These  medicine 
women  devote  their  attention  principally  to  obstetrics.” 1 
The  same  author,  giving  Mendieta  as  authority,  says  that 
among  the  Mexicans  the  medicine  men  attended  to  the 
sick  men  and  the  medicine  women  to  the  sick  women.2 

For  centuries  after  the  dawn  of  civilization,  the  super¬ 
ior  strength  of  the  male  sex  continued  to  assert  itself,  and, 
save  in  exceptional  cases,  women  were  forbidden  both 
the  acquirement  of  an  accurate  and  systematic  knowledge 
of  the  diseases  peculiar  to  their  sex,  and  the  exercise  of 
any  branch  of  the  science  of  medicine.  The  Athenian 
Agodice  (300  B.C.),  one  of  the  first  women  to  receive 
a  medical  education,  was  compelled  to  pursue  her  studies 
in  male  attire.  After  studying  under  Herophilus,  she  pre¬ 
served  her  disguise  and  practiced  medicine  with  great 
success  in  Athens,  devoting  her  attention  in  particular  to 
gynecology.  When  her  sex  was  eventually  disclosed,  and 
she  was  brought  to  trial,  the  wives  of  the  most  influential 
men  in  Athens  succeeded  in  having  the  law  that 
prohibited  women  from  studying  medicine  revoked.3 

During  the  Middle  Ages,  especially  in  Mohammedan 
countries,  there  arose  a  class  of  women  who  became 
especially  skilled  in  attending  to  the  requirements  of  their 
own  sex.  Thus  Albucasis  of  Cordova,  one  of  the  most 
able  surgeons  of  the  twelfth  century,  when  operating  on 


1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  468. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  469. 

3  Bolton,  “Early  Practice  of  Medicine  by  Women,”  Popular 
Science  Monthly,  XVIII,  pp.  192 — 193. 


7 


82 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


women,  always  had  women  assistants.  Avicenna  the  Great 
mentions  a  oollyrium  for  eye  troubles,  which  he  says  was 
compounded  by  a  woman  who  had  great  kno  wledge  of  the 
science  of  medicine.  Among  the  adherents  of  Islam,  how¬ 
ever,  the  sentiment  against  the  independence  and  equality 
of  women  is  so  strong  that  female  gynecologists  among 
the  Arabs  always  were  and  still  are  few  in  number.1 

In  some  stages  of  culture  the  social  position  of  a  medi¬ 
cine  woman  exhibits  characteristic  features.  In  Korea,  for 
example,  when  a  woman  enters  upon  this  work,  she  forsakes 
husband,  children,  parents  and  friends,  and  gives  herself 
wholly  to  her  calling.  Although  she  is  looked  upon  as  an  in¬ 
dispensable  adjunct  to  society,  she  is  thenceforth  regarded 
as  a  pariah.2  If  a  man  marries  such  ia  person,  it  is  only  to 
gain  an  easy  livelihood  from  the  earnings  of  his  wife, 
and  his  social  standing  is  low.  A  shamaness  of  noble  origin 
is  permitted  to  deal  exclusively  with  the  spirits  of  her 
own  house.  At  death,  however,  she  is  not  buried  in  the 
family  hut,  but  in  a  hole  in  the  mountain  side.3  Among 
the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  Ellis  writes,  “the  social  position 
of  priestesses  is  peculiar  in  that  they  are  not  allowed  to 
marry;  they  belong  it  is  thought  to  the  god  they  serve, 
and,  therefore,  cannot  belong  to  any  man.  Yet  custom 
allows  them  to  gratify  their  passion  with  any  man  who 

may  chance  to  take  their  fancy . A  priestess  who  is 

favorably  impressed  by  a  man  sends  for  him  to  come  to 
her  house,  and  this  command  he  is  sure  to  obey,  through 

1  Bolton,  “Early  Practice  of  Medicine  by  Women,”  Popular 
Science  Monthly,  XVIII,  pp.  192—193. 

2  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  410.  8  Ibid.,  p.  425. 


ch.  in 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


83 


fear  of  the  consequences  of  exciting  her  anger.  She  then 
tells  him  that  the  god  she  serves  has  directed  her  to 
love  him,  and  the  man  thereupon  lives  with  her  until  she 
grows  tired  of  him  or  a  new  object  takes  her  fancy.  Some 
priestesses  have  as  many  as  half-a-dozen  men  in  their  train 
at  one  time,  and  may  on  great  occasions  be  seen  walking 
in  state  followed  by  them.  Their  life  is  one  continual  round 
of  debauchery  and  sensuality,  and  when  excited  by  the 
dance  they  frequently  abandon  themselves  to  the  wildest 
excesses.  Such  a  career  of  profligacy  soon  leaves  its 
impress  upon  them,  and  their  countenances  are  generally 
remarkable  for  an  expression  of  the  grossest  sensuality.” 1 

So  far  as  can  be  seen,  it  sometimes  happens  that  the 
medicine  woman  is  the  equal  of  the  medicine  man  in  the 
manner  of  her  making,  in  her  social  standing,  in  her  func¬ 
tions,  and  in  all  other  respects.  In  China,  for  example,  De 
Groot  says,  priestesses  “act  as  mediums  for  the  spirits 
which  have  descended  into  them  in  consequence  of  con¬ 
juration,  eye-opening  papers,  incense,  drumming,  cymbals, 
and  music,  and  which  give  oracles  by  their  mouths,  unin¬ 
telligible  but  for  interpretation  by  female  experts.  In  such 
a  state  of  possession  the  medium  will  hop  and  limp,  sup¬ 
ported  by  a  woman  on  either  side,  since  her  tightly  com¬ 
pressed  feet  make  her  liable  to  tumble.  Rattles  suspended 
from  her  body  indicate  by  increase  or  decrease  of  their  noise 
the  extent  of  her  possession.  So  far  there  is  not  any 
essential  difference  between  the  work  of  such  a  woman 
and  that  of  a  possessed  ‘K  i  T  6  n  g’  or  priest.  The  spirit 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  121 — 122. 


7* 


84 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


which  is  called  into  her  is  mostly  that  of ‘S  am  K  o  /  ‘Third 
Aunt  or  Lady/  a  mysterious  being  who  is  professedly  one 
‘Tsze-Ku/  or  ‘Lady  Tsze/  who,  according  to  a  valuable 
communication  from  the  pen  of  CITen  Kwah,  was 
called  and  consulted  in  China  many  centuries  ago.” 1 
Among  the  natives  of  Central  Australia,  the  medicine 
women,  while  fewer  in  number  than  the  shamans,  seem 
on  an  equality  in  other  regards.  In  the  matter  of  initia¬ 
tion,  for  instance,  the  method  of  procedure  is  precisely 
the  same  in  the  case  of  women  as  in  that  of  men.2 

According  to  Powers,  a  priestess  among  the  Indians  of 
Southern  California,  like  her  male  rival,  before  being  conse¬ 
crated,  has  great  hardships  and  trials  to  endure.  For  she 
must  lie  prostrate  on  the  ground  during  nine  successive 
nights,  and  throughout  the  entire  period  Can  partake  of 
nothing  but  water.3 

In  East  Central  Africa,  the  medicine  woman  combines 
with  her  functions  of  healing  and  prophecy  the 
office  of  witch  detective.  MacDonald  writes  at 
length  of  her  attributes:  “She  is  the  most  terrible 
character  met  with  in  village  life.  It  is  to  her  the 
gods  of  ancestral  spirits  make  known  their  will.  This  they 
do  by  direct  appearance  and  in  dreams  and  visions . . . 
When  she  sees  the  gods  face  to  face,  which  always  happens 
at  the  dead  hour  of  the  night,  she  begins  by  raving  and 
screaming.  This  she  continues  till  the  whole  village  is  astir, 

1  De  Groot,  “Religious  System  of  China,”  VI,  pp.  1323—1324. 

2  Spencer  and  Gillen,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  p.  526. 

3  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contribut.  North  Am.  Eth.,  Ill, 
pp.  67  —  68. 


ch.  in 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


85 


and  she  herself  utterly  prostrated  by  her  exertions.  She 
then  throws  herself  on  the  ground  and  remains  in  a  state  of 
catalepsy  for  some  time,  while  the  villagers  gather  round 
her  awe-stricken,  waiting  for  her  revelations.  At  last  she 
speaks,  and  her  words  are  accepted  without  question  as 
the  oracles  of  God . . .  She  may  order  human  sacrifices  and 

no  one  will  deny  her  victims - As  a  detective  of  wizards 

and  witches  the  prophetess  is  in  constant  demand.  When 
travelling  on  official  duty  in  this  capacity,  she  goes  accom¬ 
panied  by  a  strong  guard,  and  when  she  orders  a  meeting 
of  the  clan  or  tribe,  attendance  is  compulsory  on  pain 
of  confessed  guilt.  When  all  are  assembled,  our  friend, 
who  is  clad  with  a  scanty  loin-cloth  of  leopard  skin, 
and  literally  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  rattles  and 
fantasies,  rushes  about  among  the  crowd.  She  shouts,  rants, 
and  raves  in  the  most  frantic  manner,  after  which,  assum¬ 
ing  a  calm,  judicial  aspect,  she  goes  from  one  to  another, 
touching  the  hand  of  each  person.  As  she  touches  the  hand 
of  the  bewitcher,  she  starts  back  with  a  loud  shriek  and 
yells,  ‘This  is  he,  the  murderer;  blood  is  in  his  hand/  I  am 
not  certain  if  the  accused  has  a  right  to  demand  the  M  w  a  i 
[investigation  by  the  elders  of  the  tribe],  but  it  appears 
this  may  be  allowed.  My  impression  is  that  the  law  does 
not  require  it,  and  that  the  verdict  of  the  prophetess  is 
absolute  and  final.  The  condemned  man  is  put  to  death, 
witchcraft  being  a  capital  crime  in  all  parts  of  Africa. 
But  the  accuser  is  not  content  with  simply  discovering  the 
culprit.  She  proves  his  guilt.  This  she  does  by  ‘smelling 
out/ — finding — ‘the  horns’  he  used  in  the  prosecution  of 


86 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  unlawful  art.  Since  she  herself  has  secretly  buried  these, 
it  is  easy  for  her  to  find  them.  She  follows  the  bank  of  a 
stream,  carrying  a  water  vessel  and  an  ordinary  hoe. 
At  intervals  she  lifts  water  from  the  stream  which  she 
pours  upon  the  ground  and  then  stops  to  listen.  She  hears 
subterranean  voices  directing  her  to  the  hiding  place  of 
the  wizard  at  which,  when  she  arrives,  she  begins  to 
dig  with  her  hoe,  muttering  incantations  the  while,  and 
there  she  finds  the  horns  deposited  near  the  stream  to 
poison  the  water  drunk  by  the  person  to  be  bewitched. 
As  they  are  dug  from  the  ground,  should  anyone  not  a 
magician  touch  them  even  accidentally,  the  result  would  be 
instant  death.  Now  how  does  the  witch  detective  find  the 
horns?  By  the  art  of  what  devil  does  she  hit  upon  the  spot 
where  they  are  concealed?  The  explanation  is  very  simple. 
Wherever  she  is  employed  she  must  spend  a  night  in  the 
village  before  commencing  operations.  She  does  not  retire 
like  the  other  villagers,  but  wanders  about  the  live-long 
night  listening  to  spirit  voices.  If  she  sees  a  poor  wight 
outside  his  house  after  the  usual  hour  for  retiring,  she 
brings  that  up  against  him  the  next  day  as  evidence  of 
guilty  intention,  and  that,  either  on  his  own  account,  or 
on  account  of  his  friend,  the  wizard,  he  meant  to  steal  away 
and  dig  up  the  horns,  which  the  prophetess  has  taken  care 
to  bury  in  her  night  wanderings.  The  dread  of  such  dire 
consequences  keeps  the  villagers  within  doors,  leaving  the 
sorceress  the  whole  night  to  arrange  for  the  tableau  of  the 
following  day.” 1  It  would  seem  from  the  foregoing  that  in 

1  MacDonald,  “East  Central  African  Customs,”  J.  A.  I.,  XXII,  pp.105-107. 


ch.iii  MEDICINE  WOMEN  87 


East  Central  Africa,  the  medicine  woman  has  as  much  power 
over  life  and  death,  inspires  as  much  fear,  and,  therefore,  has 
as  great  a  social  position  as  the  medicine  man  of  other  tribes. 

Among  civilized  nations,  there  are  cases  of  women 
attaining  notable  surgical  skill,  and  pursuing  with  success  the 
art  of  healing  on  an  equal  footing  with  men.  At  Salernum, 
in  the  year  1059,  for  example,  women  were  occupied  in  the 
preparation  of  cosmetics  and  drugs,  and  engaged  in  the 
practice  of  medicine  among  persons  of  both  sexes.  Some 
notable  names  are  Costanza  Calenda,  the  talented  and 
beautiful  daughter  of  a  brilliant  physician  with  whom  she 
took  studies  leading  to  the  doctorate ;  Abella,  author  of  two 
medical  poems ;  and  Adelmota  Maltraversa,  Rebecca 
Guarna,  and  Marguerite  of  Naples,  all  of  whom  obtained 
royal  authority  to  practice  medicine.1  Among  most 
peoples,  however,  man  has  insisted  as  a  general  thing 
on  keeping  woman  out  of.  the  most  important  and  lucrative 
positions,  and  it  is  only  in  recent  years,  and  in  the  most 
advanced  stages  of  civilization,  that  the  “ weaker  vessel” 
is  given  an  opportunity  to  demonstrate  her  fitness  to 
engage  in  the  practice  of  the  profession  on  equal  terms 
with  her  male  counterpart. 

It  is  not  uninteresting,  however,  to  set  forth  that  in 
primitive  societies  medicine  women  frequently  exceed  medi¬ 
cine  men  in  importance.  This  is  true  of  the  Carib  Tribes 
and  of  the  Indians  of  Northern  California.2  The  con¬ 
dition  no  doubt  harks  back  to  the  Mother  Family,  when 

1  Bolton,  “Early  Practice  of  Medicine  by  Women,”  Popular 
Science  Monthly,  XVIII,  p.  195. 

2  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  Jan.  1908,  p.  2. 


88 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


woman  was  the  dominating  factor  of  both  the  home  and 
the  society,  and  the  chief  reason  for  the  existence  of  man 
was  to  do  her  bidding.  In  Korea,  the  female  idea  of  the 
shamanate  prevails  to  such  an  extent  that  the  men  whoi  take 
up  the  profession  wear  female  clothing  while  performing 
their  duties,  and  the  whole  shaman  class  in  spoken  of  as 
feminine.1  This  is  also  the  case  in  Patagonia.2  In  Siberia, 
writes  Sieroshevski,  “The  shamanesses  have  greater  power 
than  the  shamans ;  in  general,  the  feminine  element  plays  a 
very  prominent  role  in  sorcery  among  the  Yakuts.  In  the 
Kolmyck  district  the  shamans  for  want  of  any  special 
dress  put  on  the  dress  of  women.  They  wear  their  hair 
long  and  comb  and  braid  it  as  women  do.  According  to 
the  popular  belief,  any  shaman  of  more  than  ordinary 
power  can  give  birth  to  children  and  even  to  animals  and 
birds.” 3  Among  the  Dyaks,  says  Henry  Ling  Roth,  the 
“manang  bali  is  a  most  ordinary  character;  he  is  a  male 
in  female  costume ...  He  is  treated  in  every  respect  like  a 

woman  and  occupies  himself  with  feminine  pursuits _ If 

he  can  induce  any  foolish  young  man  to  visit  him  at  night 
and  sleep  with  him,  his  joy  is  extreme ;  he  sends  him  away 
at  daylight  with  a  handsome  present,  and  then  openly 
before  the  women  boasts  of  his  conquest,  as  he  is  pleased 
to  call  it.  He  takes  good  care  that  his  husband  finds  it  out. 
The  husband  makes  quite  a  fuss  about  it,  and  pays  the 

fine  of  the  young  fellow  with  pleasure.  As  episodes  of 

1  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  409. 

2  Dixon,  “Some  Aspects  of  American  Shamanism,”  Jour. 
Am.  Folk  Lore,  Jan.  1908,  p.  2. 

3  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I,  XXXI,  p.  104. 


CH  III 


MEDICINE  WOMEN 


89 


this  kind  tend  to  show  how  successfully  the  manang 
bali  has  imitated  the  character  of  a  woman  he  is  highly 
gratified,  and  rises  accordingly  in  the  estimation  of  the 
tribe  as  a  perfect  specimen.” 1 

SUMMARY.  The  position  of  shaman  is  not  confined  to 
members  of  the  male  sex.  Women  often  succeed  in 
attaining  that  desideratum.  In  all  ages,  among  all  peoples, 
and  in  all  stages  of  culture,  there  have  been  female 
specialists  in  the  science  of  gynecology,  many  having 
reached  eminence  in  that  branch  of  the  medical 
profession.  The  making,  the  functions,  and  the  con¬ 
secration  of  medicine  women  in  general  do  not 
differ  materially  from  the  making,  the  functions,  and 
the  consecration  of  medicine  men.  In  particular  instances, 
however,  men  shamans,  on  the  one  hand,  exorcise  spirits 
and  attend  the  bedside  of  male  patients ;  women  shamans, 
on  the  other  hand,  propitiate  spirits  and  minister  to  patients 
of  their  own  sex.  When  medicine  women  combine  the 
function  of  prophet  with  that  of  witch  detective,  they  be¬ 
come  objects  of  tremendous  dread  and  fear  to  all  persons 
in  the  tribe.  As  regards  social  position,  that  of  the  female 
shaman  is  sometimes  so  very  low  that  for  a  woman  to 
embrace  the  profession  of  medicine  is  tantamount  to  re¬ 
nouncing  honorable  marriage,  or,  if  she  be  already  married, 
to  forsaking  husband  and  children,  and  becoming  an  out¬ 
cast  from  society.  In  other  instances,  although  they  do  not 
enjoy  the  same  social  privileges  as  male  doctors,  yet 

Roth, “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  270. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


90 


female  practitioners  move  in  a  wider  circle  than  do  others 
of  their  sex,  and  occupy  a  place  in  the  social  group  superior 
to  that  of  ordinary  women.  In  still  other  cases,  medicine 
men  and  medicine  women  meet  on  terms  of  social  equality; 
while  it  not  infrequently  happens  that  the  female  idea  of 
the  shamanate  prevails  to  such  an  extent  that  the  most 
powerful  shamans  are  women,  and  in  order  to  render  them¬ 
selves  more  worthy  in  the  eyes  of  their  constituents 
medicine  men  attire  themselves  in  female  habiliments. 


CHAPTER  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS;  CHARLATANS; 

THE  SOCIAL  POSITION  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN. 

In  addition  to  his  physical  and  mental  peculiarities,  real 
or  feigned,  to  which  attention  has  been  directed,1  the 
medicine  man  understands  how  to  create  between  himself 
and  his  patrons  other  dissimilarities  which  enhance  his 
influence  and  power.  These  differences  are  many  and 
varied.  He  holds  himself  aloof  from  the  other  members 
of  the  tribe;  he  lives  in  a  house  different  in  structure 
from  those  of  the  common  people;  as  a  rule  he  does  no 
laborious  work,  but  is  supported  by  his  fellows;  he 
eats  a  special  food ;  he  paints  his  body,  masks 
his  face,  and  does  many  things  which  would  be 
considered  “sinful”  for  an  ordinary  individual  to  attempt. 
He  is  readily  distinguishable  from  the  laity  by  his  taciturn¬ 
ity,  his  grave  and  solemn  countenance,  his  dignified  step, 
and  his  circumspection.  All  of  these  peculiarities  tend  to 
heighten  his  influence,  and,  by  rendering  his  appearance 
impressive  and  suggestive  of  superiority,  serve  to  increase 
his  control  over  the  people. 

Specific  accounts,  taken  from  reliable  sources,  of  the 
dress,  language,  and  manner  of  living  of  the  medicine  man 
will  enable  the  reader  to  perceive  what  effect  these  arti- 

1  Vide  pp.  32—55. 


92 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


ficial  divergencies  from  the  normal  have  upon  the  savage 
mind.  Among  the  Andamanese  Islanders,  the  native  doctor 
has  an  especial  diet — he  eats  no  flesh,  but  partakes  of  a 
small  plant  that  has  the  flavor  of  fish.1  The  shamans  of 
the  Loango  Indians  are  permitted  to  drink  water  only  at 
certain  places  and  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  or  night. 
They  are  not  allowed  to  look  at  fish  and  beasts.  Their  food 
and  drink  consists  of  roots  and  herbs,  and  blood  of  animals.2 
In  Victoria,  the  medicine  man  eats  at  unseasonable  hours, 
sleeps  while  others  are  awake,  and  is  awake  when  the 
other  members  of  the  tribe  are  asleep.  He  seldom  hunts, 
or  fishes,  or  does  any  kind  of  work.  He  makes  strange 
noises  in  the  night,  wanders  off  in  the  darkness,  seeks  to 
frighten  the  people,  and  turns  to  advantage  his  peculiar 
manner  of  living.3  In  some  countries,  priestly  celibacy  is  a 
matter  of  law ;  in  all  it  is  for  many  persons  a  godly  practice.4 
Among  the  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  the  medicine  man  is  given  at 
his  initiation  anew  generic  name,  and  is  thought  to  enter 
into  a  new  rank  of  being.5  In  ancient  Mexico,  the  shaman 
was  specially  trained  in  such  subjects  as  “hymns  and 
prayers,  national  traditions,  religious  doctrine,  medicine,  ex¬ 
orcism,  music  and  dancing,  mixing  of  colors,  painting,  draw¬ 
ing  and  ideographic  signs,  and  phonetic  hieroglyphs.”  6 

The  priest  class,  furthermore,  has  developed  a  separate 
language.  It  goes  without  saying  that  chants  containing 

1  Bartels.  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  52. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  III,  p.  528. 

5  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  283. 

6  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  I,  p.  67. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


93 


prayers  and  legends  are  in  this  esoteric  dialect;  frequently, 
too,  the  religious  rites  are  conducted  in  a  tongue  not 
known  to  the  worshippers.  Thus  the  songs  and  incanta¬ 
tions  of  the  Eskimo  angakoks  are  couched  in  a  special 
language,  which  is  in  part  symbolic,  and  in  part  merely 
obsolete.1  The  Cherokee  shamans,  in  order  to  preserve  in¬ 
violate  the  secrecy  of  their  sacred  speech,  keep  their  writ¬ 
ings  from  the  eyes  of  laymen  and  of  rival  priests,  and  speak 
so  softly  in  conducting  ceremonies,  that  even  those  nearest 
them  cannot  distinguish  the  words.2  Among  the  Dakotas, 
too,  there  is  a  sacred  as  well  as  a  common  tongue,  and 
among  theOjibways,  a  special  sacerdotal  language  is  attain¬ 
ed  through  abbreviation  of  the  ordinary  speech.3  Among  the 
Algonquins,  the  incantations  of  the  priests  of  Powhatan 
were  not  in  the  vernacular,  but  in  a  jargon  not  understood 
by  the  laity.4  In  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo, 
according  to  Henry  Ling  Roth  “the  language  used  by  the 
manangs  in  their  incantations  is  unintelligible  even  to  the 
Dyaks  themselves,  and  is  described  by  the  uninitiated  as 
‘manang’  gibberish. . .  It  may  be  simply  some  archaic  form 
of  the  ordinary  spoken  language  interspersed  with  cabalistic 
formulas,  spells,  and  charms  for  different  purposes.” 5 
“Special  priests’  languages,”  says  Ratzel,  “recur  among  the 
most  different  races  of  the  earth.”  6  This  esoteric  use  of 

1  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  p.  594. 

2  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth., 1891,  p.  310. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  464. 

Quoting  Henry  Youle  Hind. 

4  Beverly,  “Histoire  de  la  Virginie,”  p.  266. 

5  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  270. 

6  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  I,  p.  55. 


94 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


language  survives  with  the  priesthood  of  barbaric  and 
even  civilized  peoples,  as  is  illustrated  in  the  Egyptian 
hieroglyphics  and  the  Sanscrit.  In  both  the  Roman  and 
Greek  Catholic  Churches,  divine  service  is  always 
conducted,  not  in  the  language  of  the  people,  but  in  an 
ancient,  dignified,  and  sacred  tongue. 

Anything  that  differentiates  the  medicine  man  from  the 
commonalty  serves  to  call  attention  to  that  individual  above 
other  persons  in  his  group,  and  increases  his  influence. 
Among  the  Klamath  Indians  of  Oregon,  the  skin  of  a  fox 
dangles  from  an  obliquely-placed  stick  on  top  of  the  house 
of  the  shaman.1  In  Western  Borneo,  before  the  house  of  the 
medicine  man  there  are  commonly  heads  of  serpents 
fastened  on  the  ends  of  two  small  branches  of  trees.2 
The  houses  of  the  medicine  men  of  the  Bechuanas  in 
distinction  from  all  others  have  carpets  made  from  the 
skin  of  speckled  hyenas.  On  these  they  hold  their  con¬ 
sultations.3  The  priest-doctors  of  the  Annamites  have  in 
their  houses  at  least  two  poorly  constructed  altars,  one 
consecrated  to  the  ancestors,  the  other  to  the  superior 
deities  of  the  tribe.  The  first  altar  is  made  of  a  dish, 
over  which  hangs  a  tablet  with  the  name  of  the  master  of 
the  state,  and  an  inscription  which  changes  with  the  year 
of  the  birth  of  the  chief  shaman.  Before  it  are  dishes  with 
offerings  of  flowers  and  fruit;  further  off  are  rattles,  a 
coal-basin,  pipes,  drums,  torches,  arrows,  and  flags.  Behind 
the  house  is  a  pit  representing  hell,  where  the  spirits 
of  which  the  medicine  man  is  possessed,  throw  their 

Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  55.  2  Ibid.  3  Ibid. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


95 


adversaries.1  Either  in  the  house  of  the  Persian  doctor 
or  in  the  bazaar  next  to  it  was  a  booth  for  the  receiving 
of  reports.  The  floor  was  decked  with  a  felt  or  a  reed  mat. 
Near  the  wall  stood  a  number  of  boxes,  pitchers,  and 
flasks,  filled  with  electuaries,  pills,  and  elixirs.2  In  the 
newly-built  towns  of  our  great  Northwest,  the  house 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  priest  is  generally  the  most 
attractive  dwelling  to  be  seen. 

Among  some  tribes,  as  for  example  the  natives  of 
Australia  and  the  North  American  Indians,  the  medicine 
bag  is  indispensable.  The  medicine  man  makes  this  of  the 
skin  of  his  totemic  animal  with  the  hair  on  the  outside. 
He  decorates  the  bag  with  feathers,  beads,  and  porcupine 
quills.  Inside  he  places  bones,  pebbles  of  quartz,  and 
splinters,  together  with  roots  and  herbs  to  which  he 
attaches  magical  significance.3  This  bag  is  as  inseparable 
from  the  medicine  man  as  were  the  “saddle-bags”  from 
the  eighteenth  century  physician,  and  it  acts  as  a  sug¬ 
gestive  influence. 

It  is  in  his  peculiar  dress  or  professional  costume  that 
the  medicine  man  finds  his  greatest  adventitious  aid. 
This  is  often  strange  and  unaccountable.  Among  some 
tribes,  every  article  has  been  devised  and  constructed 
in  the  wildest  fancy  imaginable,  and  is  absurd  in  the 
highest  degree.  Vanity  is  one  of  the  reasons  for  this  un¬ 
usual  apparel.  Vanity,  in  fact,  was  the  primary  motive  for 
the  adoption  of  clothing  or  dress  of  any  kind.  A  shell  or 

an  ornament  attached  to  the  most  convenient  parts  of  the 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  56.  2  Ibid. 

3  Waddle,  Am.  Jour.  Psychology,  XX,  p.  229. 


96 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


body,  the  waist  or  the  neck,  for  others  to  see  and  admire, 
constituted  the  first  article  of  clothing  adopted  by  man. 
Wearing  apparel  afterwards  came  to  be  put  on  from  a 
sense  of  shame  (which  is  akin  to  vanity),  and  for 
protection  against  the  cold.1  The  medicine  man,  as  the 
idea  and  practice  of  dress  advances  in  the  “folkways,” 
desires  an  attire  different  from  the  rabble,  that  he 
may  be  envied  by  those  who  have  it  not.  Hence  his 
robes  of  office.  In  addition  to  vanity  is  the  striving 
after  effect.  What  savage  would  fail  to  be  impressed  by  the 
appearance  of  a  man,  different  from  all  others  in  so  many 
respects,  in  garments  the  like  of  which  even  the  wildest 
imagination  of  the  ordinary  individual  could  not  conceive? 
He  would  feel  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  superior 
being  whose  every  movement  throbbed  with  divinity, 
whose  every  look  could  wither,  and  whose  every  behest 
must  be  obeyed.  Such  is  the  hold  which  his  peculiar 
dress  assists  the  medicine  man  to  acquire  and  retain  upon 
his  people. 

Ethnography  abounds  in  descriptions  of  the  regalia 
of  the  primitive  doctor  and  his  incentive  to  its  adoption. 
According  to  Ellis,  among  the  Ewe-speaking  peoples,  the 
shamans  are  distinguished  from  the  commonalty  by  special 
dress  and  privileges.  They  generally  wear  articles  of 
clothing  forbidden  to  others,  and  commit  crime  with 
impunity.  No  shaman  in  former  times  was  subject  to  capital 
punishment.2  In  Dahomey,  the  priests  wear  a  peculiar  dress, 

1  Lippert,  “  Kulturgeschichte,”  I,  pp.  375  ff. 

2  Ellis,  “Ewe-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  147. 


ch.  iv _ ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS  97 

and  make  their  persons  appear  odd  and  conspicuous.  They 
shave  one  half  of  the  hair  from  their  heads,  and  allow  the 
other  half  to  grow  in  long  tufts.1  The  head  of  the  Buddhist 
priest  is  entirely  shaven.  The  priest  of  Tibet  is  distinguish¬ 
ed  by  a  striking  red  or  yellow  robe  (varying  according  to  his 
sect)  and  by  his  yellow  helmet.2  Dress,  too,  was  a 
conspicuous  feature  of  the  medicine  men  of  our  Indians, 
the  shamans  of  the  Creeks,  for  example,  for  all  their 
sombre  looks  being  garbed  in  gowns  of  brilliant  shades. s 
Bartram  reported  of  the  same  people  that  their  medicine 
men  dressed  in  white  robes,  *  and  carried  on  their  heads,  as 
insignias  of  wisdom  and  divination,  great  white  owl  skins.4 
In  the  northern  part  of  the  land  occupied  by  the  Yakuts,  all 
of  the  medicine  men  wear  their  hair  long  enough  to  fall 
down  to  their  shoulders.  They  usually  tie  it  into  a  tuft, 
or  braid  it  into  a  queue.5  Among  the  Atnatanas  of  Alaska, 
one  can  always  detect  a  medicine  man  by  his  un¬ 
covered  and  uncut  hair.6  In  Africa,  the  fetich-man  in  order 
to  impress  the  people  with  his  superior  powers,  dresses 
himself  in  the  most  astonishing  paraphernalia,  and  when 
called  upon  to  officiate  on  public  occasions  makes  as  much 
display  as  possible  in  order  to  magnify  his  office.7  The 
dress  of  the  priestesses  of  the  Land  Dyaks,  says  Henry 

Ling  Roth,  “is  very  gay;  over  their  heads  they  throw 

1  Dowd,  “The  Negro  Races,”  p.  247. 

2  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  III,  p.  528.  3  Ibid.,  II,  p.  155. 

4  Bartram,  “Travels  in  the  Carolinas,”  p.  502. 

5  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  p.  102. 

6  Smithsonian  Reports,  1886,  Part  One,  p-  266. 

7  Dowd,  “The  Negro  Races,”  p.  248. 

*  This  contradiction  may  be  explained  by  the  difference  of 
ceremonies  in  which  these  shamans  officiated. 


8 


98 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


a  red  doth,  on  the  top  of  which  they  place  a  cylindrical 
cap,  worked  in  red,  white,  and  black  beads,  and  their  short 
petticoats  are  fringed  with  hundreds  of  small,  tinkling 
hawk-bells.  Around  their  neck  is  hung  a  heavy  bead  neck¬ 
lace,  consisting  of  five  or  six  rows  of  black,  red,  and 
white  opaque  beads  strongly  bound  together.  In  addition, 
they  hang  over  their  shoulders,  belt-fashion,  a  string  of 
teeth,  large  hawk-bells,  and  opaque  beads.” 1  Bourke  de¬ 
scribes  a  medicine  hat  of  an  old  blind  shaman  named 
Nan-ta-do-tash.  It  was  made  of  buckskin,  and  was 
dirty  from  age  and  use.  Upon  the  body  of  the  hat 
were  figures  in  pigment,  some  brownish  yellow, 
and  some  a  dingy  blue,  representing  the  spirits  which 
aided  the  wearer.  It  was  adorned  with  soft  feathers, 
eagle  plumes,  bits  of  abalone  shell  and  chalchihuitl,  and 
it  was  surmounted  by  the  rattle  of  a  snake.  The  old  man  be¬ 
lieved  the  hat  gave  life  and  strength  to  him  that  wore  it, 
enabling  him  to  peer  into  the  future,  to  tell  who  had  stolen 
ponies  from  other  people,  to  foresee  the  approach  of  an 
enemy,  and  to  aid  in  the  cure  of  the  sick.2  In  China,  says 
De  Gioot,  the  priest  is  wont  to  “don  a  special  vestment, 
while  performing  religious  work.  The  principal  article  of 
his  attire  is  a  square  sheet  of  silk  representing  the  earth; 
for,  according  to  the  ancient  philosophy,  expressed  in  the 
writings  of  Liu  Ngan,  ‘Heaven  is  round  and  earth  is 
square/  The  silk  is  worn  as  a  gown  with  a  round  hole  for 
the  neck,  an  opening  down  the  front,  and  no  sleeves.  The 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p  250. 

2  Bourke,  ‘  Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  589. 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


99 


CH.  IV 


back  of  it  is  heavily  embroidered  with  gold  thread  in 
various  designs.  On  it  are  shown  a  continent,  towering 
with  mountains  and  beaten  by  waves;  the  sun  and  moon, 
personated  by  a  crow  and  a  rabbit,  their  legendary  in¬ 
habitants;  animals  symbolizing  felicity,  such  as  elephants, 
lions,  unicorns,  tigers,  phoenixes,  and  dragons  ;  and  the 
flaming  palaces  of  the  God  of  Heaven  and  of  the  lesser 
divinities.  At  the  front  of  the  gown  are  ribbons  em¬ 
broidered  with  gold  to  represent  the  parts  of  the  universe. 
The  garment  is  called  by  the  priests  the  ‘gown  of  Tao* 
or  gown  of  the  order  of  the  Universe.”  The  wearer  of 
the  gown  “is  invested  by  it  with  the  power  of  the  order 
of  the  world  itself,  and  this  enables  him  to  restore 
that  order  whenever  by  means  of  sacrifices  and  magical 
ceremonies  he  is  averting  unseasonable  and  calamitous 
events,  such  as  drought,  untimely  and  superabundant  rain¬ 
fall,  or  eclipses.  Besides,  since  the  Tao  is  the  mightiest 
power  against  the  daimon  world,  the  vestment  endows  the 
wearer  with  irresistible  exorcising  power.”  1  Among  the 
Tshi-speaking  peoples,  the  dress  of  the  representatives 
of  heaven  reflects  a  more  primitive  stage  of  culture.  Thus 
Ellis  says,  “On  the  Gold  Coast . . .  priests  and  priest¬ 
esses  are  readily  distinguishable  from  the  rest  of  the  com¬ 
munity.  They  wear  their  hair  long  and  uncared  for,  while 
other  people,  except  the  women  in  the  towns  on  the  sea¬ 
board,  have  it  cut  close  to  the  head.  They  also  wear 
around  the  neck  a  long  string  of  alternate  black  and  white 
beads,  which  descends  nearly  to  the  waist.  They  generally 

1  De  Groot,  “Religious  System  of  China,”  VI,  pp.  1264—1266. 


100 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


carry  with  them  a  stick  from  three  to  four  feet  in  length, 
to  which  about  the  middle  are  bound  parallel  to  it 

_ three  short  sticks  from  three  to  four  inches  long. 

These  latter  and  adjacent  parts  of  the  long  stick  are 
daubed  with  the  yolk  and  albumen  of  eggs,  with  pieces 
of  the  shell  adhering.  Very  commonly  priests  wear  a 
white  linen  cap  which  completely  covers  the  hair,  and  a 
similar  cap  is  worn  by  the  priestesses,  but  only  when  they 
are  about  to  communicate  with  a  god.  Frequently  both 
appear  with  white  circles  painted  round  the  eyes,  or  with 
various  white  devices,  marks,  or  lines  painted  on  the 
face,  neck,  shoulders,  or  arms.  While  ordinary  people 
wear,  when  their  means  permit,  clothes  of  the  brightest 
colors  and  most  tasteful  patterns,  the  priesthood  may  prop¬ 
erly  only  wear  plain  clothes  of  a  dull  red-brown  color, 
and  which  are  so  dyed  with  a  preparation  called  abbin, 
made  from  the  bark  of  the  mangrove  tree  ( abbin  dwia), 
with  which  fishermen  tan  their  nets.  On  holy  days  and 
festivals,  however,  they  appear  arrayed  in  white  clothes, 
and  on  special  days  with  their  bodies  covered  from  head  to 
foot  with  white  clay.  The  costume  of  a  priest  or  priest¬ 
ess,  when  professionally  engaged  in  the  dance,  consists  of  a 
short  skirt  reaching  to  the  knee,  and  made  in  the  interior 
districts  of  woven  grass  of  addor ,  on  the  sea-coast  of 
cotton  print.  At  such  times,  too,  they  always  carry  in  the 
hand  a  short  brush  made  of  reeds.”  1 

When  exercising  his  function  as  healer,  the  medicine 
man  invests  himself  with  an  attire  which  is  calculated  to  act 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  123—124. 


CH.  IY 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


101 


as  a  suggestive  influence  upon  the  minds  of  his  patients.  As 
will  be  shown  later,1  suggestion  is  his  most  important 
method  in  the  treatment  of  disease.  The  sick  man  is  given 
the  impression  that  the  doctor  dresses  vin  such  a  manner  as 
to  frighten  away  the  disease  dairnon.  The  patient,  be¬ 
lieving  the  words  and  in  the  treatment  of  his  physician, 
often  recovers,  for  “according  to  your  faith  so  be  it  unto 
you.” 2  “The  head  dress  of  the  Zulu  witch  doctor,”  as 
described  by  Ratzel,  “is  covered  with  a  tall  official  cap  of 
plaited  straw.”  In  conformity  “to  his  dignity  he  is  adorned 
with  a  carefully-tended  beard,  which  reaches  from  his  chin 
to  his  breast ...  Round  his  neck,  as  priestly  adornment, 
hang  strings  of  white  coral,  upon  which  the  fetich”  is 
thought  to  “descend  during  incantations.  A  silken  sheet 
of  gay  colours,  fantastically  knotted  and  covered  all  over 
with  charms,  rolls  down  over  the  dress  of  the  priest. 
In  his  hand  he  carries  a  wisp  of  rushes,  a!  fetich-whisk. 
This  is  here  and  there  exchanged  for  the  tail  of  a  cow  or 
buffalo,  and  is  always  regarded  among  fetich-men  as  the 
symbol  of  the  priestly  office.  His  naked  feet  are  adorned 
with  sandals  of  red  leather,  and  his  ankles  with  chains  of 
coral ...  A  more  peculiar  impression  cannot  be  conceived 
than  is  produced  by  the  unexpected  appearance  of  a 
ganga  [shaman],  rigged  out  in  this  way,  dancing,  singing, 
and  ventriloquising.” 3  The  medicine  man  of  the  Black 
Feet  Indian  tribes,  when  exercising  his  art  upon  a  sick 
person,  arrayed  himself  in  the  most  absurd  costume  which 

1  Vide,  pp.  217 — 222. 

2  St.  Matthew,  9 :  29. 

3  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  pp.  365—366. 


102 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  mind  of  man  ever  conceived.  For  a  coat  he  wore  the 
skin  of  a  yellow  bear.  The  skin  of  the  head  was  formed 
into  a  mask,  which  entirely  hid  the  features  of  the  en¬ 
chanter.  On  his  person  in  addition  to  the  skin  of  the 
yellow  bear — an  article  exceedingly  rare  and,  therefore, 
in  itself  a  powerful  medicine — were  the  skins  of  various 
wild  animals  which  were  also  anomalies  or  deformities 
and  hence,  in  the  savage  estimation,  medicine.  There 
were  also  skins  of  snakes,  frogs,  field  mice,  snails,  the 
beaks  and  tails  of  birds,  hoofs  of  deer,  goats,  and  ante¬ 
lopes,  in  a  word,  the  odds  and  ends,  the  fag  ends 
and  tips,  of  everything  that  swims,  flies,  or  runs.  In 
one  hand  he  held  a  magic  wand,  in  the  other  a  fearful 
rattle  which  contained  the  arcana  of  his  order.  On  com¬ 
ing  into  the  lodge  where  a  sick  man  lay,  he  shook  the 
rattle  and  brandished  the  magic  wand,  to  the  clatter,  din, 
and  discord  of  which  he  added  wild  startling  jumps  and 
Indian  yells,  and  the  horrid  and  appalling  grunts,  growls 
and  snarls  of  the  grizzly  bear,  calling  on  the  bad  daimon 
to  leave  the  patient.  It  was  necessary  to  see  the  dress  of 
that  medicine  man  before  a  person  could  form  a  just 
conception  of  his  frightful  appearance.  There  are  some 
instances  in  which  the  exhausted  patient  unaccountably 
recovered  under  the  application  of  those  absurd  forms.1 

In  civilized  nations  the  priests  and  ministers  of  religion 
adopt,  for  the  most  part,  various  modes  of  apparel  to  typify 
their  office  and  the  function  which  they  perform.  Among 

1  Catlin,  “North  American  Indians,”  I,  pp.  39—40;  Wood,  “Natural 
History  of  Man,”  II,  p.  680. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


A  Blackfoot  Medicine  Man  in  Full  Regalia. 

(After  Catlin).  See  pp.  101—102. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


103 


the  Hebrews,  the  high  priest  had  a  peculiar  dress  which  was 
passed  on  to  his  successor  at  his  death.  In  some  Christian 
churches,  the  stole,  the  surplice,  the  cope,  the  chasuble, 
and  other  vestments  serve  to  differentiate  priest  from 
people,  assist  in  rendering  the  service  awe-inspiring  and 

impressive,  and  suggest  to  the  minds  of  devout  worshippers 

*> 

holy,  solemn,  and  sacred  things. 

In  every  tribe  and  nation  there  is  a  tendency  on 
the  part  of  medicine  men  to  form  among  themselves  an 
intimate  alliance.  Human  nature  is  the  same  the  world 
over.  Shamans  desire  to  learn  secrets  and  methods  be¬ 
longing  to  others  of  their  class,  but  at  the  same  time 
they  wish  to  prevent  their  secrets  from  being  shared  by 
outsiders.  Hence  an  association  is  formed  for  the  mutual 
benefit  of  the  initiated,  and  for  the  exclusion  of  the 
uninitiated  from  all  rights  and  privileges.  It  comes  to 
pass,  therefore,  that  society  is  made  up  of  two  classes — 
the  “Ins”  and  the  “Outs;”1  the  “Wes”  and  the 
“Yous;”  the  profession  and  the  laity.  This  class  distinc¬ 
tion  makes  for  the  building  up  of  the  learned  sect.  If  the 
priest  class  is  the  most  favored  in  the  nation,  the  young 
men  will  wish  to  avail  themselves  of  the  benefits  and  emolu¬ 
ments  which  issue  from  membership  in  the  fraternity.  The 
older  medicine  men,  jealous  of  the  credit  of  their  pro¬ 
fession,  are  always  busy  pointing  out  those  advantages  to 
the  youth,  and  endeavoring  to  induce  them  to  become  mem¬ 
bers.  Individuals,  therefore,  in  whose  veins  flows  the  best 
blood  in  the  nation,  being  led  by  the  desire  to  be  enrolled 

1  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution,”  p.  123. 


104 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


within  the  ranks  of  the  “Ins,”  often  enter  the  sacred 
profession.  Thus  it  conies  about  that  the  shamanic 
brotherhood  includes  many  members  of  the  superior  class.1 

Of  the  existence  of  secret  societies  made  up  entirely 
of  medicine  men,  we  have  direct  evidence.  Such  are  the 
societies  of  the  Korean  pan-su  [or  shamans]  who  not 
only  form  guilds  but  even  provide  money  for  the  erection 
of  lodges  in  which  they  may  meet.2  Among  some  Ameri¬ 
can  Indian  tribes,  the  mide  had  secret  societies,  which 
extended  from  the  southern  states  to  the  northern  pro¬ 
vinces.  There  were  four  degrees,  each  having  an  especial 
secret  which  was  kept  with  great  care.  Only  a  few  select 
shamans  received  the:  highest  degree.3  Among  the  Tshi- 
spieaking  peoples,  says  Ellis,  “the  medicine  men  study 
sleight-of-hand,  and,  it  is  said,  ventriloquism;  while  they 

i 

have  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  medicinal  properties  of 
various  herbs  which  materially  assist  them  in  the  mainten¬ 
ance  of  their  imposture.  All  being  united  to  deceive  the 
people,  they  are  careful  to  assist  each  other  and  to  make 
known  anything  that  may  be  generally  useful.  They  send  to 
one  another  information  of  what  is  taking  place,  what  people 
are  likely  to  come  to  seek  their  service,  and  for  what  purpose 
they  contemplate  coming.  Sometimes  a  priest  will  inform  an 
applicant  that  the  god  he  serves  refuses  to  accord  the  infor¬ 
mation  or  assistance  required,  and  will  recommend  him  to  go 
to  another  priest,  to  whom  in  the  meantime  he  has  communi¬ 
cated  every  particular;  and  on  consulting  this  second  priest 

1  Vide,  p.  51. 

2  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  402. 

3  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  pp.  63—64. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


105 


the  applicant  is  astonished  to  find  that  he  knows,  without 
being  told,  the  purpose  for  which  he  has  come.”1 

It  might  not  be  out  of  place  at  this  point  to'  discuss  a 
phase  of  the  subject  concerning  which  frequent  inquiry  is 
made,  namely,  the  proportion  among  primitive  medicine  men 
of  quacks  and  frauds  to  those  who  are  honest  and  sincere. 
Investigations  indicate  the  fact  that  the  ratio  of  the  false  to 
the  true  among  the  uncivilized  is  practically  the  same 
as  among  the  civilized.  There  are  black  sheep  in  every 
fold.  The  condition  is  inevitable.  “It  must  needs  be  that 
offences  come.” 2  Of  the  twelve  original  apostles  one 
was  a  traitor.  There  are  many  insincere  clergymen ;  there 
are  many  quack  doctors;  but  in  either  case  the  greater 
number  of  clergymen  and  doctors  are  reliable  and  trust¬ 
worthy  men.  So,  too,  while  medicine  men  are  mistaken 
in  that  their  major  premise  is  wrong,  most  of  them  enter 
upon  their  profession  in  good  faith,  and,  indeed,  succeed  in 
achieving  ends  which  on  the  whole  make  for  the  good  of 
their  society.  The  results  of  a  wide  range  of  reading  are 
here  given  in  substantiation  of  what  has  been  said. 

The  evidence  as  to  the  number  of  quacks  may  first 
be  adduced.  Among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  “the  poss¬ 
essors  of  ehsuhma.n ...  a  sub-order  of  priests  . . .  are  con¬ 
scious  of  their  own  imposture.”  3  The  same  writer  states, 
“There  are  some  medicine  men,  who  though  conscious  of 
their  own  fraud  and  of  the  mythical  nature  of  the  gods 
they  themselves  serve,  still  implicitly  believe  in  the  existence 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  128. 

2  St.  Matthew,  18  :  7. 

3  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  192. 


106 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


and  power  of  other  gods  who  are  regarded  as  greater.”  1 
An  investigator  writes  concerning  her  observation  of  the 
Head-hunters,  “For  fever,  some  of  these  native  doctors 
have  splendid  medicine;  but  on  the  other  hand  many  of 
them  are  awful  humbugs,  and  ascribe  every  kind  of  magical 
power  to  some  absolutely  rubbishy  concoction,  and  charge 
accordingly.”2  In  Tibet,  “there  are  undoubtedly  devout 
lamas,  though  the  majority  are  idle  and  unholy.” 3  In 
Queensland,  there  are  sharp-witted  individuals  who  arro¬ 
gate  to  themselves  powers  similar  to  those  of  the  publicly- 
recognized  medicine  men.  An  authority  states  that  “to 
differentiate  between  the  truly  qualified  practitioners  and 
the  quacks  is  often  no  easy  matter — and  the  difficulty 
is  only  increased  when  one  bears  in  mind  that  the  effects 
produced  by  either  class  of  individuals  are  for  all  practical 
purposes  identical.”  4 

According  to  Lafiesche,  among  the  Indians  of  North 
America,  in  contradistinction  to  good  shamans  “there 
was  another  kind  of  medicine  man,  who  held  no 
office  of  public  trust,  for  he  lacked  one  of  the 
essential  qualifications  for  such  a  responsibility,  and  that 
was  truthfulness ;  he  continually  wandered  in  thought, 
word,  and  deed  from  the  straight  path  of  truth.  He  was 
shrewd,  crafty,  and  devoid  of  scruples.  The  intelligent 
classes  within  the  tribe  held  him  in  contempt,  while  the 

ignorant  of  the  community  feared  him.  His  pretentions 

1  Ellis,  “Tshi'Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  147. 

2  Cator,  “Everyday  Life  Among  the  Head-Hunters,”  p.  189. 

3  Bishop,  “Among  the  Tibetans,”  p.  88. 

4  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland 
Ethnography  Bulletin,  Number  5,  p.  31. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


107 


enabled  him  to  carry  on  successfully  his  profession 
of  deception  upon  the  simple.  He  was  a  ‘Healer/ 
something  similar  to  the  healer  known  to  the  civilized 

folk  now-a-days  as  ‘divine.’ . He  was  a  keen 

observer  of  nature  and  human  nature,  and  he  used  his 
acumen  solely  to  his  own  advantage.  If  he  had  possessed 
book  learning  in  addition  to  what  he  gleaned  from  ex¬ 
perience,  and  lived  in  New  York  City  or  Chicago,  he  would 
not  have  failed  of  many  followers.  Or,  he  might  have  been 
useful  in  the  Weather  Bureau  at  Washington,  for  when 
he  said  it  would  rain,  it  did  rain.”  1 

In  proclaiming  oracles  the  medicine  man  does  not 
in  every  instance  deliberately  set  himself  to  the  task 
of  imposing  upon  the  people.  He  may  often  be  an  earnest 
man,  so  intensely  possessed  by  the  thought  of  a  spirit 
speaking  within  him  that  in  good  faith  he  changes  the 
tones  of  his  voice  to  suit  the  spirit  utterance.  But  spirit 
utterance  there  must  be,  and  if  the  oracle  refuses  to 
speak  voluntarily  and  spontaneously,  the  medicine  man 
sometimes  resorts  to  trickery  and  fraud  to  facilitate  such 
utterance.  In  illustration  of  this  point  attention  is  directed 
to  Bastian’s  “Der  Mensch  in  der  Geschichte,”  in  which  it  is 
said  that  among  the  Congo  people  the  medicine  man  is 
accustomed  to  use  ventriloquism  in  proclaiming  oracles.2 
Ratzel  writes,  “Complete  masters  of  this  priestcraft 
are  versed  in  animal  magnetism,  ventriloquism,  and 
sleight-of-hand.”  3  In  these  instances  ventriloquism  is  not 

1  Laflesche,  “Who  was  the  Medicine  Man?”  Thirty-second 
Annual  Report  of  the  Fairmount  Park  Art  Association,  p.  12. 

2  Op.  cit.,  II,  p,  200.  3  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  156. 


108 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


practiced  unconsciously  and  in  the  belief  that  the  gods 
are  speaking  through  their  anointed,  but  by  artificial 
stimulation  and  with  the  premeditated  purpose  of  deceiv¬ 
ing  the  people,  and  beguiling  them  into  the  belief  that 
the  will  of  the  gods  is  thus  being  revealed.  Abominable 
conduct  such  as  this  was  no  doubt  responsible  for  some 
of  the  strong  utterances  of  Bourke,  as  for  example,  “It  will 
only  be  after  we  have  thoroughly  routed  the  medicine  men 
from  their  intrenchments,  and  made  them  the  objects 
of  ridicule,  that  we  can  hope  to  bend  and  train  the  minds 
of  our  Indian  wards  in  the  direction  of  civilization.  In  my 
own  opinion,  the  reduction  of  the  medicine  men  will  effect 
more  for  the  savages  than  the  giving  of  land  in  severalty, 
or  the  instruction  in  the  schools  at  Carlisle  or 
Hampton.”  1 

There  would  seem  to  be  conclusive  proof,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  the  greater  number  of  medicine  men  are 
honest  and  sincere.  Primitive  doctors  in  the  majority  of  cases 
are  not  consciously  and  utterly  impostors.  The  shamans 
believe  that  they  have  spoken  to  the  gods  face  to<  face, 
have  heard  their  voice,  and  felt  their  presence.  The  faith 
of  the  priest  is  generally  real,  and  cannot  be  shaken. 
And,  “as  one  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he.” 2  Among 
the  Yakuts,  says  Sieroshevski,  “some  shamans  are  as 
passionately  devoted  to  their  calling  as  drunkards  to  drink. 
One  had  several  times  been  condemned  to  punishment ;  his 
professional  dress  and  drum  had  been  burned,  his  hair  had 

1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  594. 

2  Proverbs,  23  :  7. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


109 


been  cut  off,  and  he  had  been  compelled  to  make  a 
number  of  obeisances  and  to  fast.  He  remarked,  ‘We  do 
not  carry  on  this  calling  without  paying  for  it.  Our  masters 
[the  spirits]  keep  a  zealous  watch  over  us,  and  woe  betide 
us  afterwards  if  we  do  not  satisfy  them:  but  we  cannot 
quit  it;  we  cannot  cease  to  practice  shaman  rites.  Yet  we 
do  no  evil!”’ 1  Of  the  Eskimos,  Boas  writes,  “Most  of 
the  angakoks  believe  in  their  performance,  as  by  continued 
shouting  and  invoking  they  fall  into  ecstasy,  and  really 
imagine  they  accomplish  flights  and  see  spirits.” 2 
Concerning  the  natives  of  West  Africa,  it  is  said,  “If 
you  ask  me  frankly  whether  I  think  these  African  witch 
doctors  believe  in  themselves,  I  think  I  must  say,  ‘Yes  ■/ 
or  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say  they  believe  in  the 
theory  by  which  they  work,  for  of  that  there  can  be  little 
doubt.  I  do  not  fancy  they  ever  claim  invincible  power 
over  disease;  they  do  their  best  according  to  their  lights. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  see  why  they  should  doubt  their 
own  methods,  because,  remember,  all  their  patients  do  not 
die ;  the  majority  recover  . . .  Africans  of  the  West  Coast . . . 
are  liable  to  many  nervous  disorders.  In  these  nervous 
cases  the  bedside  manners  of  the  medicine  man  may  be 
really  useful.”  3  Hoffman  quotes  an  authority  to  the  effect 
that  the  “dreamers”  [a  class  of  shamans  among  the 
Menomini  Indians]  “were  evidently  thoroughly,  even 
fanatically,  in  earnest.”4  Among  the  Omahas,  four 

1  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  p.  102. 

2  Boas,  “  Central  Eskimo,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  p.  594. 

3  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  pp.  217 — 218. 

4  Hoffman,  “The  Menomini  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth  ,  1896,  p.  160. 


110 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


demands  were  made  of  the  one  who  “was  to  deal  with 
the  mysteries  enshrined  in  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of 
the  tribe:  First  and  foremost,  was  the  recognition  of  the 
sanctity  of  human  life.  The  man  who  Was  to  mediate 
between  the  people  and  Wa-kon-da  must  stand  before  his 
tribesmen  and  the  Great  Spirit  with  hands  unstained  with 
the  blood  of  his  fellow  man.  Secondly,  he  must  be  a  man 
whose  words  never  deviate  from  the  path  of  truth,  for 
the  Great  Spirit  manifests  the  value  placed  upon  truth 
in  the  regular  and  orderly  movements  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  and  in  the  ever-recurring  day  and  night,  summer 
and  winter.  Thirdly,  he  must  be  slow  to  anger,  for  the 
patience  of  the  Great  Spirit  is  shown  in  his  forbearance 
with  the  waywardness  of  man.  Fourthly,  he  must  be 
deliberate  and  prudent  of  speech,  lest  by  haste  he  should 
profane  his  trust  through  thoughtless  utterance.  The  man 
thus  chosen  was  true  to  the  sacredness  of  his  office.” 1 
Among  the  Land  Dyaks,  the  shamanesses  “are  not  neces¬ 
sarily  impostors;  they  but  practice  the  ways  and  recite 
the  songs  which  they  received  from  their  predecessors, 
and  the  dignity  and  importance  of  the  office  enable  them 
to  enjoy  some  intervals  of  pleasurable  excitement  during 
their  laborious  lives.” 2  Nansen,  in  his  “Eskimo  Life,” 
says,  “The  influence  of  these  angakohs  of  course  depended 
upon  their  adroitness ;  but  they  do  not  seem  to  have  been 
mere  charlatans.  It  is  probable  that  they  themselves  partly 
believed  in  their  own  arts,  and  were  convinced  that  they 

1  Laflesche,  “Who  was  the  Medicine  Man?”  Thirty-second 
Annual  Report  of  the  Fairmount  Park  Art  Association,  p.  9. 

2  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  p.  259. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


111 


sometimes  received  actual  revelations.”  1  That  medicine 
men  in  the  capacity  of  physician  generally  learn  their  pro¬ 
fession  in  good  faith,  and  retain  their  belief  until  the 
last,  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  when  they  fall  ill  or  are 
in  straits,  they  solicit  assistance  of  others  in  the  same  pro¬ 
fession.2  A  case  in  point  is  the  Dieyerie  tribes  of  South 
America,  whose  shamans,  when  they  are  themselves  sick, 
call  in  other  medicine  men  to  wait  upon  them.3  That  would 
seem  to  show  their  sincerity. 

The  medicine  man,  adverse  criticism  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding,  is  not  always  and  everywhere  an  un¬ 
principled,  unmitigated  knave.  For  though  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  many  a  shaman  preys  upon  the  superstitions, 
gullibilities,  and  weaknesses  of  the  ignorant,  the  savage 
doctor  is  nevertheless  often  useful  in  achieving  results 
which  at  a  primitive  stage  of  culture  might  not  be 
wrought  in  any  other  way.  In  sickness  the  people  rely 
absolutely  on  his  healing  powers.  According  to  Mooney, 
the  Cherokee  Indian  trusts  his  medicine  man  as  a  child 
trusts  a  more  intelligent  doctor.4  In  Australia,  during 
sickness  “the  natives  have  implicit  confidence  in  their 
medicine  men,  and  in  serious  cases,  two  or  three,  if  they  be 
available,  are  called  in  consultation.”  5  Throughout  the 
Malay  Archipelago,  and  throughout  America  and  Australia, 
the  people  place  absolute  reliance  upon  the  shamans.6 

1  Op.  cit.,  p.  282. 

2  Brinton,  “Religion  of  Primitive  Peoples,”  p.  58. 

3  Bartels,  “Med-  Naturvolker,”  p.  92. 

4  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  theCherokees/’Bur.Eth.,  VII, p.  323^ 

5  Spencer  and  Gillen,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  p.53(k 

6  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  50. 


I 


112 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


The  methods  used  in  the  hour  of  sickness  are 
well  calculated  to  give  a  feeling  of  confidence;  and  the 
effect  produced  on  the  mind  of  the  patient  without  doubt 
reacts  favorably  upon  his  physical  organization.  Sug¬ 
gestion  is  the  great  stock-in-trade  of  the  savage  doctor,1 
and  faith  is  the  sine  qua  non  on  the  part  of  the  patient. 
The  divination,  magic,  prayers,  and  hocus  pocus  of  the 
medicine  man  all  tend  to  inspire  in  the  mind  of  the  sick 
the  greatest  hope  and  expectancy  for  recovery. 

With  the  thought  of  shamanic  sincerity  in  mind, 
instances  of  remarkable  cures  effected  by  aboriginal 
healers  through  suggestion  or  some  other  means 
may  not  be  uninteresting.  Mrs.  Allison  says  of  the 
Similkameen  Indian  medicine  men,  that  aside  from  their 
mysteries  they  have  “really  valuable  medicines.  People 
apparently  in  the  last  stages  of  consumption  have  been 
cured  by  them.”  2  Bartels,  quoting  Buttikofer,  relates  that 
in  Liberia  in  certain  sicknesses  even  white  people  have  been 
cured  by  the  medicine  man,  after  the  European  doctors! 
had  confessed  their  inability  to  do  anything  for  the 
patient.3  Concerning  the  success  of  a  medicine  man 
among  the  Head-hunters  it  is  related,  “We  met  a  woman 
lately  who  had  come  from  Freetown  with  a  dreadful  disease 
in  her  face,  and  our  doctors  could  do  nothing  for  her;  and 
so  her  husband  brought  her  right  up  here  in  the  interior 

1  Vide  pp.  217—222. 

2  S.  S.  Allison,  “Similkameen  Indians  of  Brit.  Columbia,”  J.  A. 

I.,  1891,  p.  311. 

3  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  50. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


113 


to  one  of  these  ‘medicine  men’  to  be  cured  ‘country 
fashion  and  she  is  getting  better  every  day.  Her  suffering 
was  intense,  but  now  she  has  absolutely  no  pain,  and  is 
evidently  on  the  high  road  to  recovery.” 1  The  following 
account  of  a  striking  cure  is  taken  from  Hearne’s 
Journal:  “During  our  stay  at  Anaw’d  Lake,  as 
several  of  the  Indians  were  sickly,  the  white  doctors 
undertook  to  adminster  relief  particularly  to  one 
man  who  had  been  hauled  on  a  sledge  by  his  brother 
for  two  months.  His  disorder  was  that  of  the  dead  palsy, 
which  affected  one  side  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the 
sole  of  his  foot.  Besides  this  dreadful  disorder,  he  had 
some  inward  complaints  with  a  total  loss  of  appetite, 
so  that  he  was  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton,  and  so  weak 
as  scarcely  to  be  capable  of  speaking.  In  this  deplorable 
condition,  he  was  laid  in  the  center  of  a  large  conjuring- 
house,  and  that  nothing  might  be  wanting  towards  his 
recovery,  the  medicine  man  swallowed,  or  feigned  to 
swallow  a  large  piece  of  board  about  the  size  of  a  barrel 
stave.  Then  six  of  his  co-workers,  stripped  naked,  followed 
him  into  the  conjuring  house,  where  they  soon  began  to 
blow,  suck,  sing  and  dance  around  the  paralytic,  and 
continued  to  do  so  for  four  nights  and  three  days  . . .  and  it 
was  truly  wonderful,  though  the  strictest  truth,  that  when 
the  sick  man  was  taken  from  the  conjuring-house  he 
had  not  only  recovered  his  appetite  to  an  amazing  degree, 
but  was  able  to  move  all  the  fingers  and  toes  of  the  side 
that  had  been  so  long  dead.  In  three  weeks  he  had 

1  Cator,  “Every  day  Life  among  the  Head-Hunters,”  p.  189. 

9 


114 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


recovered  so  far  as  to  be  capable  of  walking,  and  at  the 
end  of  six  weeks  he  went  hunting  with  his  family.” 1 
In  view  of  such  achievements  how  could  savage  doctors  do 
otherwise  than  believe  in  the  theory  by  which  they  work? 

One  other  aspect  of  the  subject  remains  to  be 
discussed  in  this  chapter,  and  that  is  the  social  position 
of  the  medicine  man.  This  depends  upon  the  respect  and 
fear  which  he  is  able  to  inspire  by  this  attitude  of 
aloofness  and  by  the  strength  of  personality,  as  well  as  upon 
the  popular  belief  in  his  influence  and  power  with  the 
gods.  The  conviction  of  his  supernatural  origin,  the  effect 
of  his  adventitious  aids,  his  superior  mental  and  moral 
qualities,  in  addition  to  the  exhibition  of  truly  wonderful 
powers,  cause  in  the  savage  mind  a  feeling  of 
veneration  and  awe  which  does  not  fail  to  assist  in  extend¬ 
ing  the  temporal  and  spiritual  sway  of  the  shaman  over 
all  classes  throughout  the  land.  By  many  individuals  and 
peoples,  therefore,  his  power  is  thought  to  be  without 
limit,  extending  to  the  raising  of  the  dead  and  the  control 
of  the  laws  of  nature.2  The  Eskimo  medicine  men 
are  clever,  but  they  are  also  crafty.  They  proclaim 
their  ability  in  no  moderate  terms.  To  speak  with 
spirits,  to  travel  to  the  underworld  or  the  heavens, 
to  invoke  such  mighty  beings  as  the  tornarssuk  and 
obtain  information  from  them — all  these  tasks  are 
thought  to  lie  within  their  power  to  perform.3  In 
Victoria,  the  native  doctors  maintain  that  they  know  all 

1  Hearne,  “Voyage  a  l’OcSan  Nord,”  I,  pp.  333 — 336. 

2  Schoolcraft,  “Information  Respecting  the  Indian  Tribes  of  the 

United  States,”  V,  p.  423.  3  Nansen,  “Eskimo  Life,”  p.  281. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


115 


things  over  and  under  the  earth.1  Among  the  Indians 
of  Southern  California,  it  is  believed  that  the  shaman  can 
command  the  elements,  read  the  future,  and  change  him¬ 
self  into  whatever  form  he  wishes.2  In  the  New  Hebrides, 
the  savage  doctor  was  regarded  with  fear  and  veneration 
by  the  people;  he  could  bring  rain  or  drive  it  away,  he 
could  cause  sickness  or  banish  disease.  The  people  be¬ 
lieved  that  he  was  able  to  make  thunder  and  lightning  and 
to  cause  hurricanes.  It  was  also  thought  that  he  could 
make  different  kinds  of  food  grow,  and  give  or  withhold 
fish  from  the  sea.3  Among  the  Mexicans,  the  medicine  man 
was  credited  with  having  the  power  to  transform  him¬ 
self  into  an  animal.4  The  natives  of  Victoria  relate  that  a 
medicine  man  restored  the  “kidney-fat”  of  a  patient,  and  so 
effected  a  cure  after  the  white  doctor  had  given  the 
man  over  to  die.5  The  priest  physicians  of  the  Sea  Dyaks 
try  to  heighten  their  prestige  among  gullible  laymen  by 
asserting  after  every  event  which  takes  place,  that  they 
knew  of  it  beforehand.  Even  when  a  sick  person  seeks  their 
help,  they  will  say  that  they  foresaw  his  attack.6  In  Central 
Queensland,  an  authority  writes,  it  was  believed  that  “a 
medicine  man  could  make  an  individual  sick,  even  when  he 
was  miles  away,  and  ‘doom  him/  so  to  speak.  This  ‘doom¬ 
ing' meant  being  cut  up  info  small  pieces  and  put  together 
again;  the  spear,  or  other  visible  cause,  was  not  to  blame — 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  50.  2  Ibid.,  p.  51. 

3  J.  Laurie,  “Aneityum,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  711. 

4  Mendieta,  “Historia  Eclesiastica  Indiana,”  p.  109. 

5  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  p.  50. 

6  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I, 
p.  267.  (Note). 


9* 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


116 


it  only  completed  the  deed. . .  When  [a  white  man  named] 
Petrie  once  chaffed  the  natives  about  one  of  their  medicine 
man  being  locked  up  in  a  prison  cell,  and  taunted  them 
about  his  not  being  able  to  get  out,  he  was  informed  that 
the  prisoner  only  refrained  from  escaping  through  the 
key-hole,  because  he  did  not  like  to  disappoint  and  insult 
his  European  captors;  the  blacks  were  quite  satisfied  that 
the  individual  in  question  could  easily  have  secured  his 
own  liberty  if  he  had  wanted  to.”  1  In  Central  Australia, 
it  is  believed  that  medicine  men  can  assume  the  form 
of  eagle-hawks,  and  when  thus  disguised,  travel  long 
distances  during  the  night,  visiting  the  camps  of  other 
tribes,  where  they  are  responsible  for  much  suffering  and 
even  death  by  their  habit  of  digging  their  sharp  claws 
into  the  sleepers.2  Among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples, 
the  shaman  is  considered  able  to  work  miracles.  People 
go  to  him  for  information  and  assistance  in  almost 
every  concern  of  life — to  expose  the  thief,  the  slanderer, 
and  the  adulteress,  to  procure  good  luck  or  to  avert  mis¬ 
fortune,  and  to  detect  murderers.  In  their  anxiety  to  secure 
his  aid,  men  have  been  known  to  enslave  themselves  in  order 
to  obtain  the  requisite  sum  for  the  services  of  the  doctor.3 
The  Mi-Wok  of  Southern  California  declared  that  their 
medicine  men  could  sit  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  fifty  miles 
away  from  the  person  whom  they  wished  to  destroy,  and 
bring  about  his  death  by  flipping  poison  towards  him  with 

1  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland, 
Ethnography,  Bulletin,  No.  5.  p.  30. 

2  Spencer  and  Gillen,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  p.  533. 

3  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  124. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


117 


their  finger-ends.1  Miss  Kingsley  writes  that  the  adherents 
of  the  West  African  Ju-ju  priests  believe  those  worthies 
capable  of  disguising  “a  person  so  that  his  own  mother 
would  not  recognize  him,  this  without  the  assistance  of 
any  make-up,  but  simply  by  their  devilish  science;  they 
think  that  they  could  cause  a  tree  on  the  banks  of  a  river 
to  bend  its  stem  and  imbibe  water  through  its  topmost 
branches;  that  they  could  change  themselves  into  birds 
and  fly  away;  and  that  they  could  make  themselves  in¬ 
visible  before  your  eyes  and  so  suddenly  that  you  could 
not  tell  when  they  had  done  so.”  2  In  Northwest  Queens¬ 
land,  the  power  of  the  medicine  man  is  held  to  be  so  great 
that  the  natives  say,  without  him  “the  effects  of  the  charm 
would  be  harmless,  sickness  and  death  would  gradually 
disappear,  and  there  would  be  a  likelihood  of  the  abo¬ 
riginals  living  forever.” 3  The  Algonquin  tribes,  and 
the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  thought  the  soul  could  not  leave 
the  body  until  released  at  the  great  annual  feast  by  the 
efforts  of  the  shaman.4  According  to  the  belief  of  some 
tribal  groups,  neither  death,  nor  hell,  nor  the  grave  offers 
any  escape  from  the  omnipotent  power  of  the  medicine  man. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  that  in  any  community 
a  person  wielding  a  power  so  enormous  in  its  possibilities 
as  does  the  shaman,  must  of  necessity  occupy  a  place  of 
great  prominence.  The  position  of  the  medicine  man  in  the 

society  is,  therefore,  one  of  tremendous  importance.  He 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contrib.  North  Am. Eth., Ill, p.354. 

2  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  p.  499. 

3  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland, 
Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  p.  30. 

4  J.  M.  Stanley,  Smithsonian  Contributions,  II,  p.  38. 


118 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


must  be  treated  with  reverence,  and  his  wishes  consulted, 
lest  in  anger  he  consume  the  recalcitrants.  No  in¬ 
dividual  is  honored  in  any  social  aggregation  unless 
he  commands  respect.  When  a  herd  of  steers  re¬ 
ceives  an  additional  member,  the  new  comer  must 
at  once  lock  horns  with  the  leader.  If  he  is  successful  in 
the  conflict,  he  is  treated  with  such  deference  that  he 
becomes  the  corypheus  of  the  herd.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  is  worsted  in  the  combat,  he  must  contest  with 
a  less  and  less  able  antagonist,  until  at  length  the  “water 
finds  its  level.”  When  a  “tenderfoot”  arrives  at  the  scene 
of  his  future  “cow  punching,”  his  first  task  is  to  meet 
the  bully  of  the  crowd  in  physical  encounter.  In  case  he 
proves  superior  to  his  antagonist,  he  is  respected  by  the 
“gang”  and  his  status  is  assured.  But  if  he  goes  down 
in  the  struggle,  he  must  deal  with  a  successively  weaker 
foe  until  he  finds  his  stratum.  In  primitive  society  the 
medicine  man,  even  though  sometimes  a  dwarf,  is 
respected  because  the  weapons  of  his  warfare  for  the 
most  part  are  not  carnal  but  spiritual.  He  has  a  great 
advantage,  therefore,  in  combat  because  to  the  mind  of 
the  savage  a  spirit  is  the  most  terrible  foe  imaginable. 
It  is  asserted,  for  example,  that  among  the  tribes  of  Siberia 
and  the  Dyaks  of  Borneo,  the  non-sacerdotal  physician  is 
far  less  esteemed  than  the  shaman,  who  depends  upon 
the  possession  of  mysterious  powers  which  give  him 
control  over  daimons.1  Concerning  the  standing  of  the 
shaman  in  West  Africa  Miss  Kingsley  says,  “The  medicine 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  271. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


119 


man  is  known  to  possess  witch  power,  and  knowledge  of 
how  to  employ  it;  but  instead  of  this  making  him  an  object 
of  aversion  to  his  fellow  men,  it  secures  for  him  esteem 
and  honor,  and  the  more  terrifically  powerful  his  person  is 
known  to  be,  the  more  respect  he  gains.”  1  According  to 
Bartels,  the  position  of  the  shaman  among  all  savage  tribes 
is  especially  honorable  and  dignified.  By  the  Dakotas  he 
was  treated  with  veneration  and  provided  with  the  best 
things  in  the  land.2  “On  the  Tully  River,”  says  an 
authority,  “the  medicine  men  are  respected,  and  the  other 
blacks  will  not  play  any  tricks  or  larks  on  them,  as  they 
often  do  with  others  in  the  camp.” 3 

Not  only  does  the  mystical  influence  of  the  shaman 
secure  for  him  the  respect  of  his  people,  but  it  also 
inspires  them  with  fear  of  his  dreaded  person,  of  his  ill  will, 
and  of  his  anger.  Nansen  says  of  the  Eskimos,  “By  reason 
of  their  connexion  with  the  supernatural  world,  the  most 
esteemed  angakoks  have  considerable  authority  over  their 
countrymen,  who  are  afraid  of  the  evil  results  which  may 
follow  any  act  of  disobedience.” 4  The  dread  which  the 
medicine  man  excites  among  the  Thlinkeets  can  easily  be 
imagined  when  it  is  known  that  in  their  land  the  supreme 
feat  of  the  power  of  a  conjuror  is  to  throw  one  of  his 
liege  spirits  into  the  body  of  a  person  who  refuses  to  be¬ 
lieve  in  his  might,  “upon  which  the  possessed  is  taken  with 

1  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  p.  212. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  p.  49. 

3  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland, 
Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  p.  30. 

4  Nansen,  “Eskimo  Life,”  p.  283. 


120 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


swooning  and  fits.” 1  Among  the  Andamanese  the 
oko-paiad  must  be  propitiated  with  frequent,  handsome 
gifts,  lest  they  visit  those  at  whom  they  are  angry 
with  disease  and  even  death.2 

In  addition  to  his  alleged  intimacy  with  the  gods, 
the  medicine  man  of  some  tribes  does  not  hesitate  in 
cases  of  incorrigibility  to  employ  another  expedient, 
which  never  fails  to  smite  terror  into  the  heart 
of  both  friend  and  foe.  This  may  be  called  his 
detective  function.3  Savage  peoples  cannot  conceive  of  bad 
luck,  sickness,  and  death  apart  from  agency.4  The  agents 
may  be  visible  or  invisible.  In  either  case  the  question 
arises:  Who  prevailed  upon  the  spirits  to  despoil  the 
crops  or  slay  the  cattle?  Who  caused  the  daimon  to  enter 
into  the  patient  and  bring  about  his  sickness  and  death? 
For  “proper”  answers  those  questions  are  always  submitted 
to  the  specialist  of  the  imaginary  environment.  Then  woe 
unto  those  unfortunate  individuals  against  whom  the 
medicine  man  entertains  a  grudge;  for  upon  them  will 
fall  the  accusation  of  witchcraft,  which  is  usually  followed 
by  death.5  This  detective  function  gives  the  medicine 
man  an  opportunity  to  gratify  his  private  malice,  to  punish 
the  recreant,  to  whip  with  perfect  safety  the  disobedient  into 
line,  and  at  the  same  time  to  intensify  to  a  superlative 
degree  the  dread  with  which  popular  superstition 
enshrouds  his  own  person.  In  order  to  show  the  truth 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  p.  339. 

2  J.  A.  I.,  XI,  p.  289. 

3  Vide  pp.  84—87. 

4  Vide,  pp.  4—5;  14;  167. 

5  Kingsley,  “Travels  in  West  Africa,”  p.  463. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


121 


of  what  has  just  been  said  the  following  examples  are  pre¬ 
sented.  Spencer  and  Gillen  write  concerning  the  Central 
Australians,  “No  such  a  thing  as  natural  death  is  realized 
by  the  natives.  A  man  who  dies  has  of  necessity 
been  killed  by  some  other  man  or  woman,  and  sooner 
or  later  some  one  will  be  accused  by  the  medicine 
man,  his  life  thereby  being  forfeited.”  “Sometimes 
when  a  man  is  dying,  he  will  whisper  in  the  ear 
of  the  medicine  man  the  name  of  the  culprit,  but  even  if 
he  does  not  do  so,  the  medicine  man  will  often  state  as 
soon  as  death  has  taken  place,  the  direction  in  which  the 
culprit  lives  and  very  probably  the  group  to  which  he  be¬ 
longs.  It  may  be  perhaps  two  or  three  years  before  he  dis¬ 
covers  the  actual  man,  but  sooner  or  later  he  does  so.”  1  It 
is  needless  to  point  out  what  a  potent  element  this  custom 
has  been  in  cowing  the  masses.  In  some  of  parts  Africa, 
the  medicine  man  may  “mark”  the  person  who  is  causing 
the  sickness,  and  commonly  the  “marked”  individual  is  put 
to  death  as  a  sacrifice.2  In  Central  Africa,  a  stranger  as 
well  as  a  member  of  the  tribe  may  be  accused  of  causing 
a  sudden  death,  and  in  such  cases  the  medicine  man  has 
the  right  both  to  judge  and  to  order  his  victim  to  speedy 
execution.3  Among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  the  priests 
“are  frequently  employed  to  procure  the  death  of 
persons  who  have  injured  or  offended  the  applicants. 
It  is  not  supposed,  however,  that  the  priests  have 
this  power  of  themselves,  but  rather  that,  being 

1  Spencer  and  Gillen,  "Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  pp.  48 
and  533.  2  J.  A.  I.,  XXII,  p.  104. 

3  Ibid. 


122 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


in  high  favor  with  the  gods,  they  are  able  to 
induce  them  to  adopt  their  quarrels.” 1  The  persons 
against  whom  the  priests  exert  their  powers  sometimes 
really  die,  and  in  such  coincidences  the  power  of  the 
servants  of  the  gods  is  greatly  enhanced.  When  the 
doomed  individual  does  not  die  from  disease  or  accident, 
“if  the  priest  be  sufficiently  interested  in  the  case ....  he 
causes  poison  to  be  administered  to  the  man  ‘pointed  ouf  . . 
He  is  careful  not  to  let  the  applicant  know  what  means 
he  has  used  to  procure  the  desired  end,  and  the  latter  attri¬ 
butes  the  death  of  his  enemy  solely  to  the  hocus  pocus  of 
the  priest . . .  Although  a  priest  who  may  thus  use  his 
influence  with  a  god  to  destroy  life  does  not  appear  to  be 
held  blameworthy,  the  applicant  who  carries  out  the  in¬ 
structions  of  the  priest,  and  who  is  thus  believed  to  have 
caused  the  death  is,  if  discovered,  himself  put  to  death ;  and, 
as  it  is  supposed  that  the  members  of  his  family  have  been 
privy  to  his  proceedings,  even  if  they  did  not  instigate  the 
crime,  or  aid  and  abet  the  murderer,  they  are  sold  as  slaves 
except  in  extreme  cases,  when  they  are  put  to 

death _ How  do  savage  peoples  discover  the  procurer 

of  the  death  of  another?  Through  the  priest.  He  does 
not  betray  a  man  who  has  made  application  to  him;  such  a 
course  would  be  fatal  to  his  own  interests.  But  if  some 
one  has  not  shown  him  the  proper  reverence,  that  is  the 
individual  whom  he  indicates  as  the  guilty  person.  Thus 
many  innocent  men  and  women  are  made  to  suffer,  and 
the  priest  can  gratify  his  private  malice  with  impunity.”  2 

1  Ellis,  “  Tslii-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  142—146.  2  Ibid. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


123 


It  is  to  the  advantage,  therefore,  of  every  tribal 
member  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  medicine  man.  If 
there  be  a  person  who  can  so  influence  the  spirits  that  they 
will  do  his  behest,  it  is  obvious  that  everybody  will  want 
to  make  friends  with  him.  Even  if  he  has  no  mystical 
power,  if  by  using  his  detective  function  he  can  throw  the 
blame  of  evil  fortune  on  the  insubordinate,  every  person 
in  the  group  will  dread  him  to  the  extent  of  showing  him 
respect,  reverence,  and  even  worship.  All  will  fear  to 
offend  him  lest  he  use  the  weight  of  his  tremendous  power 
against  them.  Thus  we  are  told  that  among  the  Papuans, 
the  common  people  live  in  great  terror  of  the  wizard. 
Remnants  of  food  are  carefully  collected  after  a  meal 
and  buried  or  burned  lest  he  get  possession  of  them  and 
so  exercise  his  supposed  power  of  sorcery.1  The  men  of 
Victoria  fear  to  touch  the  medicine  man  and,  therefore, 
yield  to  all  his  demands;  the  women  quake  before  him 
because  they  believe  him  able  to  rob  them  of  their  “kidney- 
fat.”  A  greater  reason  for  these  women  to  fear  a  shaman 
is  the  belief  that  he  is  able  to  make  them  unfruitful  and  to 
kill  their  children.2  In  some  districts  “everyone  falls  down 
before  the  medicine  man  with  face  to  the  ground;  he 
commands  and  all  obey  in  terror  lest  he  should  smite 
them  to  the  earth ....  Children  have  fallen  into  convulsions, 
women  have  dropped  dead  in  the  forest  from  coming  upon 
him  unawares.” 3  The  Sahaptain  Indians  frequently  die 

1  S.  Ella,  “Samoa”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  638. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  51. 

8  Lehmann,  “  Aberglaube  und  Zauberei,”  p.  19;  Reclus,  “Primitive 
Folk,  ”  p.  235. 


124 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


from  fright  on  beholding  the  evil  eye  of  the  shaman,  and 
the  Wascow  Indians  believe  that  death  is  certain  when  he 
casts  his  terrible  glance  at  any  person.1  Among  the  Yakuts, 
says  Sieroshevski,  shamans  and  shamanesses  are  buried 
without  “ecclesiastical  ceremonies  in  grave  or  forest.  On  a 
tree  near  the  grave  they  hang  up  the  paraphernalia  of  the 
deceased.  Such  persons  are  buried  with  great  haste  by 
night,  or  in  the  evening,  and  the  places  where  they  are 
buried  are  always  carefully  avoided.” 2  Among  some 
peoples,  when  a  man  becomes  obsessed  with  the  idea  that 
the  awful  eye  of  the  medicine  man  has  been  fixed  upon 
him,  he  often  sickens,  wastes  away,  refuses  food,  and  dies 
of  hunger  and  melancholia.3 

The  special  regard  and  fear  aroused  by  the  medicine 
man  unite  in  making  for  him  a  unique  place  in  the  tribal 
group.  In  some  instances  he  enjoys  special  immunity  from 
punishment,  no  matter  how  great  the  offence.  Connolly 
relates  an  illustrative  incident  which  occured  in  Fanti- 
Land.  The  account  reads  as  follows:  “A  certain  Kwa- 
mina  Dorko  was  at  enmity  with  two  friends  named 
Kujo  Atta  and  Kweku  Dyen,  and  to  take  revenge 
on  them  applied  to  a  fetich-priest  named  Kofi  Paka 
to  inflict  some  injury  on  the  two  friends.  At  the 
inquiry,  the  fetich-priest . . .  made  a  very  free  confession 
of  his  part  in  the  matter  and  seemed  desirous  to  impress 
the  natives  with  a  consciousness  of  his  skill.  He  on 
payment  of  twenty-eight  shillings,  a  present  of  rum  and 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  pp.  51  and  57. 

2  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  p.  99. 

a  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvblker,”  p.  51. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Another  Device  of  the  Medicine  Man 
for  Frightening  Daimons. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


125 


fowls,  went  with  Kwamina  Dorko  to  a  path  near  the  town 
where  Kujo  Atta  and  Kweku  Dyen  lived,  dug  a  hole  in  the 
pathway,  and  laid  therein  a  large  red  crab,  with  cowries 
tied  to  it,  and  sprinkled  rum  over  it.  The  invocation  he 
made,  which  he  repeated  at  the  inquiry,  was,  ‘O  crab- 
fetich,  when  Kujo  Atta  and  Kweku  Dyen  walk  over  you, 
may  you  take  life  from  them/  that  is  to  say,  power, 
strength,  health,  or  vitality.  As  soon  as  this  became  known, 
Kujo  Atta  and  Kweku  Dyen  dug  up  the  crab-fetich,  and 
in  their  anger,  nearly  took  the  life  out  of  Kwamina  Dorko 
and  some  of  his  friends.  In  their  defence,  the  crab-fetich 
was  produced  in  court  as  quite  a  sufficient  provocation 
for  any  assault.  It  is  remarkable  that  no  violence  was 
offered  to  the  fetich-priest,  and  that  he  came  as  willingly  to 
give  evidence  to  prove  the  malice  of  Kwamina  Dorko  as  he 
went  to  gratify  that  malice  by  ‘making  fetich’  against  the 
others.” 1 

The  medicine  man  is  naturally  keen  in  turning  to 
advantage  the  unusual  esteem  and  privileges  which  come 
to  him  by  virtue  of  his  office.  Among  the  Sioux  he  was 
the  most  powerful  and  influential  man  in  the  tribe.2  The 
shaman  of  the  Fuegians  excels  the  laymen  in  cunning 
and  deceit,  and,  therefore,  in  influence.3  In  Australia,  too, 
the  most  influential  person  in  any  social  group  is  the 
medicine  man.4  According  to  Gatlin,  among  the  tribes  of 
his  acquaintance,  the  medicine  man  had  a  seat  in  all  the 
councils  of  war,  he  was  regularly  consulted  before  any  public 

1  Connolly,  “Social  Life  in  Fanti-Land,”  J.  A.  I.,  XXVI,  p.  151. 

2  Minnesota  Historical  Collections,  Vol.  1.  p.  269. 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  p.  339. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  49. 


126 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


step  was  taken,  and  the  greatest  respect  was  paid  to  his 
opinion.1  Spencer  says  that  “though  the  Tasmanians 
were  free  from  the  despotism  of  rulers,  they  were  swayed 
by  the  counsels,  governed  by  the  arts,  or  terrified  by  the 
fears  of  certain  wise  men  or  doctors.  These  could  not 
only  mitigate  suffering,  but  inflict  it.” 2  The  medicine 
man  of  the  Abi pones  taught  his  people  “‘the  place,  time 
and  manner  proper  for  attacking  wild  beasts  or  the  enemy. 
On  an  approaching  combat,  he  rode  round  the  ranks, 
striking  the  air  with  a  palm  bough,  and  with  a  fierce 
countenance,  threatening  eyes,  and  affected  gesticulations, 
imprecated  evil  on  all  enemies/” 3  Among  the  primitive 
Germans,  ‘“the  maintenance  of  discipline  in  the  field  as  in 
the  council  was  left  in  great  measure  to  the  priests:  they 
took  the  auguries  and  gave  the  signal  for  the  onset,  they 
alone  had  power  to  visit  with  legal  punishment,  to  bind 
or  to  beat/”  4 

An  interesting  monograph  could  be  written  on  “The 
Parasites  of  Human  Society.”  Parasites  are  those  who  live 
at  the  expense  of  others.  They  exist  among  insects.  The 
bee  family  consists  of  the  queen,  the  workers,  and  the 
drones.  The  workers  are  always  busy  extracting  nectar 
from  plant  and  flower,  making  it  into  honey  for 
present  use,  and  storing  the  manufactured  product 
against  the  day  of  need.  The  drones  make  no  contri¬ 
bution  to  the  common  store.  They  do  not  even  earn  their 

own  living,  but  are  sustained  by  the  workers.  They  are  para- 

1  Catlin,  “North  American  Indians,”  I,  p.  41. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  p.  339. 

3  Ibid.,  Ill,  p.  Ill,  Quoting  Dobrizhoffer’s  “Account  of  the 

Abipones,”  II,  p.  76.  4  Ibid.,  III.  p.  112,  Quoting  Stubbs’ 

“Constitutional  History  of  England,”  I,  p.  34. 


CH.  IV 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


127 


sites.1  Human  society  has  always  had  its  parasites.  As  far 
back  as  the  reach  of  knowledge  extends,  it  is  found  that 
there  have  been  individuals  who  lived  at  the  expense  of 
others.  The  productive  class,  by  labor,  intellectual  or  manual, 
procure  the  means  of  subsistence.  The  parasitic  class  have 
no  share  in  the  supplying  of  k  material  needs,  but  are 
furnished  by  the  working  class  with  the  means  of  livelihood. 
In  some  regards  the  medicine  man  is  a  human  parasite. 
He  and  his  fellows  make  up  a  class  which  is  non-productive 
of  material  goods.  Their  necessities  and  even  luxuries  are 
provided  by  those  who  toil.  Their  non-participation  in  the 
competition  for  life,  their  superabundance  of  leisure  time, 
and  the  wide  range  of  pleasure  available  to  them  are  made 
possible  at  the  expense  of  “the  forgotten  man.” 
To  take  a  few  cases  in  point,  it  is  said  that 
among  the  aborigines  of  Victoria  the  medicine  men 
do  not  hunt,  fish,  or  do  any  kind  of  labor.  They  expect 
gifts  from  their  people,  and,  in  fact,  prey  on  the  super¬ 
stitions  of  their  tribal  companions.  By  their  wits  and 
cunning,  they  preserve  an  ascendency  over  their  supporters, 
and  live  on  the  profits  of  their  crafty  practices.2 
In  Dahomey  “when  a  man  is  once  admitted  into  the 
ranks  of  the  fetiches,  his  subsistence  is  provided  for, 
whether  he  be  one  of  the  ‘regulars/  who  have  no  other 
calling,  and  who  live  entirely  upon  the  presents  which  they 
obtain  from  those  who  consult  them,  or  whether  he  retains 
some  secular  trade  and  only  acts  the  fetich-man  when  the  fit 
happens  to  come  on  him.” 3  Among  the  Atnatanas  of 

1  Maeterlink,  “The  Life  of  the  Bee,”  pp.  246  ff.  2  Brough 
Smith,  “Aborigines  of  Victoria,”  p.467.  3  Wood, “  Natural  Hist, 
of  Man,”  I,.p.  656. 


128 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Alaska,  the  shamans  are  merely  primitive  priests  and 
prophets,  they  produce  nothing.1 

But  despite  the  strong  convictions  of  many  persons 
as  to  the  balefulness  of  the  medicine  man,  and  despite 
his  imposition  upon  society  in  the  capacity  of  parasite, 
his  influence  has  not  been  wholly  for  bad.  He  has, 
indeed,  given  to  society  more  than  he  has  received,  and 
has  rendered  a  social  service  unique  in  its  significance. 
Even  the  parasite  has  its  place.  Among  bees,  were  it  not 
for  the  drones,  the  society  would  perish.  The  medicine  man 
and  his  associates,  supplied  by  other  classes  with  bodily 
sustenance,  constitute  a  leisure  class.2  Without  a  leisure 
class  it  would  seem  impossible  among  savage  as  well  as 
among  civilized  peoples  for  any  intellectual  progress  or 
culture  to  be  attained.  For  the  leisure  class  the  struggle  for 
existence  is  eliminated.  Their  physical  wants  being  supplied 
by  the  “toiling  millions,”  they  have  necessarily  a  large 
surplus  of  mental  energy  which  must  be  expended,  and 
a  large  amount  of  time  which  must  be  consumed.  That  this 
time  and  energy  has  not  been  wasted  we  have  direct 
evidence.  The  priests  of  New  Zealand,  for  example,  turned 
to  account  their  leisure  time  by  acquiring  skill  in  wood¬ 
carving  and  other  arts.3  Among  the  Mexicans  and 
Peruvians,  the  shamans  “learned  how  to  mix  colors,  to 
paint,  to  draw  hieroglyphics,  to  practice  medicine,  music, 
and  also  astrology,  and  the  reckoning  of  time.”4  Under 

1  Smithsonian  Report,  1886,  Part,  I,  p.  266. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  184. 

3  Wood,  “Natural  History  of  Man,”  II.  p.  178. 

4  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  155. 


ch.iv  ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS  129 


primitive  conditions  the  intellectual  force  of  the  group 
centers  chiefly  in  the  priest  class.  The  medicine  men 
hence  become  the  depositaries  of  the  tribal  legends.  In 
many  cases  they  not  only  are  the  sole  members  of  the  tribe 
who  are  acquainted  with  its  history,  but  are  careful  to 
keep  this  history  secret  so  that  they  amaze  with  their 
knowledge  those  who  come  to  consult  them.1  Since  the 
medicine  men  are  the  preservers  of  the  legends  and 
traditions  of  the  tribe,  and  of  the  art  of  writing,  they 
either  actively  or  passively  become  teachers  of  tribal  lore 
and  wisdom  to  the  younger  generation.  In  Mexico,  in 
Oceania,  and  in  Central  California,  the  shamans  gave 
long  and  careful  instruction,  physical,  mental,  and  moral, 
to  the  boys  and  young  men  of  their  respective  peoples.2 
The  observation  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  the  adjustment  of 
the  calendar,  and  the  pseudo-science  of  astrology  are 
indebted  for  their  beginnings  to  the  regulation  by  the 
priest  class  of  religious  festivals.  From  the  study  and 
practice  of  astrology  came  the  real  science  of  astronomy. 
That  the  astronomers  of  ancient  Egypt  and  Chaldea  were 
priests,  and  that  the  study  of  the  science  of  astronomy, 
in  which  considerable  advance  was  made  by  those  peoples, 
was  due  to  the  existence  of  a  hierarchy  wholly  exempt 
from  the  struggle  for  existence,  is  established  by  the  fact 
that  the  results  of  that  study  were  employed  in  religious 
ceremonies.  In  ancient  China  a  tribunal  of  mathematicians, 
which  prepared  a  calendar  of  eclipses  and  made  calcula- 

1  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  I,  p.  55. 

2  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  Jan.  1908,  p.  10. 

10 


130 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


tions  of  the  movements  of  heavenly  bodies,  was  supervised 
by  the  priesthood.1  Hence,  in  the  last  analysis,  science  had 
its  origin  with  this  parasitic  body  of  men. 

SUMMARY.  This  chapter  has  served  a  threefold  purpose. 
It  was  shown  in  the  first  place,  that  distinctiveness  in  diet, 
dwelling,  dress,  language,  and  organization  has  the  effect 
of  intensifying  the  dissimilarities  between  the  medicine  man 
and  his  people,  an3  so  of  increasing  popular  esteem 
for  the  representative  of  the  gods.  The  interesting 
question  of  the  sincerity  of  the  shaman  was  next 
discussed.  And  while  many  cases  of  flagrant  imposture 
were  found,  yet  the  conclusion  was  reached  that  quackery 
and  charlatanism  are  no  more  prevalent  in  primitive  than 
in  civilized  societies.  The  many  remarkable  cases  of  heal¬ 
ing,  indeed,  which  must  be  set  down  to  the  credit  of  the 
medicine  man,  together  with  his  extraordinary  societal2 
control,  indicate  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  primitive 
society  to  survive  apart  from  his  activity.  This  led,  in  the 
third  place,  to  a  consideration  of  the  social  status  of  the 
medicine  man.  Owing  to  the  respect,  reverence,  awe,  and 
fear  inspired  by  his  attitude  of  superiority,  by  his  so-called 
detective  function,  and  by  his  supposed  influence  and 
relationship  with  the  divinities,  the  social  standing  of  the 
representative  of  the  gods  was  found  to  be  very  high.  He  is 
the  most  influential  man  of  primitive  times.  As  to  the  use 
which  he  makes  of  his  possibilities  for  good  or  evil,  it  was 

1  Dealey  and  Ward,  “Sociology,”  pp.  280—281. 

2  Societal  =  of  society.  Synonymous  with  “social.” 


CH.  VI 


ADVENTITIOUS  AIDS 


131 


learned  to  be  beyond  controversy  that  the  medicine  man  to 
some  extent  has  been  a  reactionary  influence  in  society. 
But  that  is  not  surprising.  Since  any  man  or  institution 
possessing  capacity  for  great  good  possesses  also 
capacity  for  great  evil,  it  is  inevitable  that  this 
important  personage  should  at  times  cast  the  weight  of 
his  influence  in  the  wrong  direction.  On  the  whole, 
the  priest  class,  however,  has  been  of  inestimable  benefit 
to  mankind,  for  otherwise  societies  which  harbored  the 
institution  must  of  necessity  have  given  place  to  other 
groups  not  thus  trammelled  and  hindered. 


10* 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN; 

PERILS  OF  FAILURE;  REWARDS  OF  SUCCESS,  INCLUDING  FEES. 

Having  considered  the  means  by  which  the  medicine 
man  attains  and  retains  his  position,  his  belief  in  his  own 
methods,  and  his  social  status,  inquiry  may  next  be 
made  into  the  functions  of  this  most  important  element 
of  primitive  life.  From  his  capacity  of  mediator  between 
gods  and  men,  those  activities  are  necessarily  complex, 
developing  along  the  various  lines  in  which  he  may  be  of 
service  to  his  social  group.  Though  in  barbaric  just  as  in 
civilized  culture  there  is  frequent  specialization,  as  a  result 
of  which  each  function  of  the  medicine  man  is  exercised  by 
a  different  person,  in  primitive  society  the  shaman  combines 
in  himself  the  offices  of  sorcerer,  diviner,  rain-maker, 
educator,  prophet,  priest,  and  king.  In  the  discussion  of  the 
social  standing  of  the  exponent  of  the  gods  some  allusion 
was  made  to  his  professional  functions,  but  for  the  sake 
of  completeness,  this  subject  must  now  be  taken  up  in 
detail. 

Among  the  Indians  of  this  country,  says  Laflesche, 
“the  entire  life  of  the  medicine  man,  both  public  and 
private,  was  devoted  to  his  calling.  His  solitary  fasts  were 
frequent,  and  his  mind  was  apt  to  be  occupied  in  contem¬ 
plating  the  supernatural.  His  public  duties  were  many 
and  often  onerous.  His  services  were  needed  when  children 
were  dedicated  to  the  Great  Spirit;  he  must  conduct  the 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


133 


installation  of  chiefs;  when  dangers  threatened,  he  must 
call  these  leaders  to  the  council  of  war;  and  he  was  the  one 
to  confer  upon  the  warrior  military  honors;  the  appoint¬ 
ment  of  officers  to  enforce  order  during  the  buffalo  hunt 
was  his  duty;  and  he  it  was  who  must  designate  the  time 
for  the  planting  of  the  maize.  Apart  from  the  tribal  rites, 
he  officiated  at  ceremonials  which  more  directly  concerned 
the  individual;  as  on  the  introduction  to  the  cosmos  of 
a  newly  born  babe.” 1 

In  view  of  his  social  prominence,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  this  personage  makes  use  of  his  power  to  elevate 
himself  to  the  highest  position  in  the  land — that  of  chief. 
Why  should  he  not  do  so?  It  is  characteristic  of  human 
nature  to  acquire  all  that  can  be  obtained ;  and  the  medicine 
man  is  no  exception  to  this  rule.  In  Liberia,  therefore,  he 
is  the  leading  counsellor  and  reigning  chief  in  war  and 
peace.2  Among  the  Australians,  the  gomera  [medicine 
man]  commands  and  is  obeyed.  He  is  master  of  all  the 
people  of  the  group  to  which  he  belongs.  He  is  wizard  and 
headman  combined.3  In  Madagascar,  the  king  is  the  high 
priest  of  the  realm.4  The  kings  of  Mangia  were  the  priests 
of  Rongo.5  The  chief  in  Tauna,  according  to  Turner,  was 
also  the  high  priest  of  the  tribe.6  Among  the  Sea  Dyaks, 
the  medicine  men  yielded  precedence  only  to  the  chiefs, 
and  frequently  one  man  would  combine  the  two  offices. 

1  Laflesche,  “Who  was  the  Medicine  Man?”  Thirty-second  Annual 
Report  of  the  Fairmount  Park  Art  Association,  p.  10. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  49. 

3  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  43. 

4  Ellis,  “History  of  Madagascar,”  I,  p.  359. 

5  Gill,  “Myths  and  Songs  from  the  South  Pacific,”  pp.  293 — 294. 
Turner,  “Nineteen  Years  in  Polynesia,”  p.  88. 


134 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


The  only  requisite  for  obtaining  that  dual  power  was 
popularity,  and  the  foundation  of  popularity  was  skill 
in  interpreting  dreams  and  in  expelling  spirits.1  In  New 
Zealand,  the  priest  was  generally  at  the  same  time  chief 
of  his  tribe.2  Among  the  Amazulu,  says  Spencer,  “a 
chief  practices  magic  on  another  chief  before  fighting  with 
him,  and  his  followers  have  great  confidence  in  him  if  he 
has  much  repute  as  a  magician.”  3  Among  the  Dakotas, 
the  chief  who  led  the  party  to  war  was  always  a  medicine 
man.  It  was  believed  that  he  had  the  power  to  guide  the 
party  to  success  and  to  save  it  from  defeat.4  In  Humphrey’s 
Island,  the  king  and  high  priest  were  one  and  the  same 
person.5  Spencer  quotes  Bishop  Colenso  to  the  effect 
that  the  sway  of  Langalibalele,  an  African  ruler,  was 
due  to  his  knowing  the  composition  of  the  intelezi 
(used  for  controlling  the  weather),  together  with  the  fact 
that  he  was  doctor.6  Among  the  Incas,  the  functions  of  war 
chief  and  high  priest  were  blended.7  The  priests  of  the 
Chinooks  and  of  the  Bolivian  Indians  were  also  chiefs.8 
Hitzilopochtil,  the  founder  of  the  Mexican  power,  is  re¬ 
puted  to  have  been  a  great  wizard  and  a  sorcerer.9  Odin, 
the  Scandinavian  chief,  and  Niort  and  Frey,  who  suc¬ 
ceeded  him  in  power,  appear  in  the  Heims-Kringla  saga 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  265. 

2  Thompson,  “The  Story  of  New  Zealand,”  I,  p.  114. 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  p.  339. 

4  Schoolcraft,  “Information  Respecting  the  Indian  Tribes  of  the 
United  States,”  IV,  p.  495. 

5  Turner,  “Samoa,  A  Hundred  Years  and  Long  Before,”  p-  278. 

6  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  p.  339. 

7  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  203. 

8  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  56. 

9  Ibid.,  II,  p.  340. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


135 


to  have  been  medicine  men.1  “In  Peru,  the  Inca  power 
was  in  some  degree  a  theocracy,  in  which  the  priest-king, 
once  presumably  elective,  had  become  virtually  a  hered¬ 
itary  ruler  at  once  head  of  church  and  state,  claiming 
divine  origin  and  receiving  divine  honors.” 2 

The  last  statement  leads  to  the  assertion  that 
the  medicine  man  in  some  cases  exercises  not  only 
kingly  power,  but  pretends  divinity.  On  the  prin¬ 
ciple  of  “get  all  you  can,”  that  is  to  be  expected. 
The  shaman  “goes  from  strength  to  strength.”  He 
uses  his  power  to  make  himself  greater  and  greater 
in  the  eyes  of  the  people.  According  to  Bourke,  when  an 
Apache  medicine  man  is  in  full  regalia,  he  is  no  longer 
a  man,  but  becomes,  or  tries  to  become  in  the  eyes  of  his 
followers  the  power  for  which  he  stands.3  In  Loango,  the 
shaman  is  also  king.  The  people  ascribe  to  him  divinity, 
and  think  that  he  can  control  the  elements.4  In  Southern 
India,  the  advice  of  the  medicine  man  is  sought  on  every 
occasion,  trivial  or  important,  and  he  is  worshipped  as 
though  he  were  a  god.5  Among  the  Polynesians,  the 
priests  were  called  “god-boxes” — usually  abbreviated 
to  “gods,” — that  is  to  say,  living  embodiments  of  the 
gods.6  So  it  is  that  superstitious  dread  of  his  magic  power, 
of  his  alliance  with  the  spirits,  and  of  his  innate  or  acquired 

capacity  for  states  of  ecstasy,  augmented  by  that  credulity 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  p.  340. 

2  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  Jan.  1908,  p.  11. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  581. 

4  Astley,  “New  General  Collections  of  Voyages  and  Travels,” 
III,  p.  223. 

5  J.  A.  Society  of  Bombay,  I,  p.  102. 

0  Gill,  “Myths  and  Songs  from  the  South  Pacific,”  p.  35. 


136 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


which  leads  to  respect  and  reverence  for  the  capable 
individual,  raises  the  medicine  man  in  the  eyes  of  his 
adherents  to  heights  of  might  and  power  which  terminate 
finally  in  his  claims  to  to  be  a  god. 

In  all  nations  and  in  all  ages  there  have  been  indi¬ 
viduals  sensitive  to  atmospheric  changes  and,  therefore, 
able  to  make  accurate  forecasts  of  the  weather.  It  is 
asserted  that  animals  of  every  kind — pigs,  fish,  dogs, 
grouse,  sheepi  and  the  like, — can  perceive  these  changes. 
Mr.  C.  W.  G.  St.  John,  who  is  said  to  be  an  accurate 
observer  of  animal  life,  contends  that  there  are  few  animals 
which  do  not  afford  timely  and  accurate  prognostications 
of  atmospheric  disturbances.1  In  man,  however,  this 
meteorological  sense  is  not  universal.  Civilized  peoples, 
indeed,  for  the  most  part  have  become  insensible  to  the  elec¬ 
tric,  barometric,  thermometric,  hygrometric,  and  magnetic 
conditions  which  announce  in  advance  these  atmospheric 
changes.  But  at  the  present  stage  of  culture  there  are 
occasionally  individuals  sensitive  especially  to  the  approach 
of  storms.  This  sensibility  may  be  felt  in  various  ways — 
through  vague  pains,  a  sense  of  oppression,  general  dis¬ 
comfort,  or  heaviness  in  the  head.  Thus  persons  afflicted 
with  rheumatism  often  before  a  storm  experience  pains  in 
the  joints  with  almost  barometric  certainty.  Or  a  snowstorm 
may  be  preceded  by  nervous  irritability,  derangement  of 
the  stomach,  and  general  depression.2  Among  savage 
peoples  this  prognosticating  ability  is  regarded  as  a  gift  of 

1  St.  John,  “Short  Sketches  of  the  Wild  Sports  and  History  of 
the  Highlands,”  Chapter  33. 

2  Reference  lost. 


ch  v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  137 


the  gods.  The  medicine  man  uses  the  faculty  to  increase  his 
power.  It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  that  in  primitive 
societies,  the  man  who  has  the  gift  of  foretelling  the 
approach  of  storm  and  calm,  fair  weather  and  foul,  comes 
to  be  regarded  as  possessing  supernatural  power. 

Not  only  can  many  medicine  men  make  forecasts 

of  the  weather,  but  they  have  the  power  of  pre¬ 

dicting  other  events  with  a  skill,  and  accuracy  which 
impress  civilized  folk.  Among  the  Kelta  of  Southern 
California,  Powers  writes,  “the  shamans  profess  to  be 
spiritualists,  not  merely  having  visions  in  dreams, 

which  is  common  to  these  Indians,  but  pretending  to  hold 
in  their  waking  hours  converse  with  spirits  by  clairvoyance. 
An  instance  is  related  of  a  certain  Indian  who  had 
murdered  Mr.  Stockton,  an  Indian  agent,  besides  three 
other  persons  at  various  times,  and  was  a  hunted 

fugitive.  The  matter  created  much  excitement  and  specu¬ 
lation  among  the  tattle-loving  Indians,  and  one  day  a  Kelta 
shaman  cried  out  suddenly  that  he  saw  the  murderer  at 
that  moment  with  his  spiritual  eyes.  Fie  described  minutely 
the  place  where  he  was  concealed,  told  how  long  he 
had  been  there,  and  many  other  details.  Subsequent  events 
revealed  the  fact  that  the  shaman  was  substantially 
correct.”  1 

The  medicine  man  is  not  slow  in  making  the  most  of 
whatever  prophetic  powers  he  may  possess.  How  is  the 
shaman  able  accurately  to  predict  the  place  in  which  game  is 
to  be  found,  to  forecast  the  weather,  future  events,  and  other 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Con trib.  NorthAm.Eth.,  Ill, p. 91. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


138 


occurrences?  According  to  primitive  belief,  by  reason  of  his 
intimacy  with  the  gods.  It  is  from  them  that  he  gains  the 
desired  information,  be  it  the  location  of  lost  articles,  or 
game,  or  the  advent  of  bad  luck.  The  prophet,  therefore, 
is  a  very  convenient  person  for  a  tribe  or  community  to 
possess.  For,  by  consulting  the  aleatory  element,  he  can 
tell  precisely  when  the  ills  of  life  are  coming,  so  that  bad 
luck  may  be  avoided.  There  is  direct  evidence  that  in  the 
lower  stages  of  culture  the  medicine  man  and  the  prophet 
are  one  and  the  same  person.  Among  the  Gan- 
guella  negroes  of  Caquingue,  the  same  individual  is 
medicine  man,  prophet,  and  magician.1  Among  the  Ojib- 
ways,  says  Hoffman,  “The  jessakkid  is  a  seer  and 

prophet _ The  Indians  define  him  as  a  ‘revealer 

of  hidden  truths/ . He  is  said  to  possess  the 

power  to  look  into  futurity;  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  affairs  and  intentions  of  men;  to  prognosticate  the 
success  or  misfortune  of  hunters  and  warriors,  as  well  as 
other  affairs  of  various  individuals,  and  to  call  from  any 
living  human  being  the  soul,  or  more  strictly  speaking,  the 
shadow,  thus  depriving  the  victim  of  reason,  and  even  of 
life.”  2 

If  Nature  has  not  endowed  the  medicine  man  with 
the  gift  of  prophecy,  he  often  counterfeits  it  by  cultivating 
the  art  of  divination.  As  a  diviner  he  learns  the 
signs  and  the  omens  which  will  be  auspicious  or 
inauspicious  to  any  undertaking,  and  specializes  in 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  49. 

2  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII,  p.157. 


ch.v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  139 


the  art  of  augury.  Among  the  Central  Eskimos, 
a  curious  method  of  divination  applied  by  the  anga¬ 
kok  is  that  of  head-lifting,  described  by  Boas.  “An 
individual  with  a  thong  placed  around  his  head  lies 
down  beside  a  sick  person.  The  thong  is  fastened  to  the  end 
of  a  stick  which  is  held  in  hand  by  the  angakok.  The 
angakok  then  makes  interrogations  as  to  the  nature  and 
issue  of  the  disease.  These  questions  are  supposed  to  be 
answered  by  the  soul  of  a  dead  person,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  make  it  impossible  for  the  head  to  be  lifted  if  the 
answer  is  affirmative,  while  the  head  is  raised  easily  if 
the  answer  is  negative.  It  is  thought  that  as  soon 
as  the  soul  of  the  departed  leaves,  the  head  can 
be  moved  without  difficulty.” 1  In  East  Central  Africa, 
when  exercising  his  art,  the  diviner  rattles  his  gourd 
(medicine  bag),  and  examines  the  pebbles,  teeth,  and  claws 
inside  it.  From  these  he  receives  his  oracles,  and  gives  his 

answers  according  to  their  position.  Generally  the  advice 

* 

given  is  shrewd  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is  somewhat 
ambiguous.2 

The  preparation  of  love  charms  and  hunting  charms, 
the  control  of  the  supply  of  game,  the  regulation  of  the 
weather,  especially  the  bringing  of  rain  necessary  to  the 
growth  of  crops,  constitute  other  features  of  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  the  medicine  man.  The  chief  raison  d'etre  of 
the  specialist  of  the  imaginary  environment  is  the 
warding  off  of  bad  luck  and  the  bringing  of  good  luck.3 

1  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,”  Popular  Science  Monthly,  LVII,  p.  631. 

2  J.  A.  I.,  XXII,  p.  105. 

3  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  48. 


140 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


The  worst  luck  possible  to  an  agricultural  people  is  a 
season  of  drought;  the  best  luck  imaginable  an  abundance 
of  rain.  In  the  one  case  there  is  famine;  in  the  other, 
food  in  plenty.  When  vegetation  is  dying,  when  animals 
have  no  nourishment,  and  when  there  is  no  water  to 
drink,1  the  man  who  can  make  the  heavens  open  and  give 
forth  rain  is  an  important  member  of  society.  Rain-making 
is  one  of  the  great  methods  by  which  the  medicine  man 
seeks  to  establish  his  reputation  as  a  superior  being.  If  his 
power  stands  the  test  here,  he  can  rest  assured  of  going 
through  life  with  fame  untarnished  and  place  secure.  But  if 
he  fails  in  this  important  particular,  he  might  better  hang 
his  harp  upon  the  willows.  In  many  cases,  indeed, 
after  failure,  both  harp  and  player  are  destroyed. 

The  identity  of  shaman  and  rainmaker  is  established 
by  authoritative  evidence.  Among  the  Amazulus,  for 
example,  at  a  time  of  great  drought,  a  celebrated 
medicine  man  said,  “Let  the  people  look  at  the  heavens 
at  such  a  time;  [then]  it  will  rain.”  When  rain  came 
the  people  said,  “Truly,  he  is  a  doctor.”  2  Of  Hap-od-no, 
a  famous  shaman  of  the  Indians  of  California,  Powers 
writes:  Hap-od-no,  “by  his  personal  presence,  his  elo¬ 
quence  and  his  cunning  jugglery,  has  made  his  fame  and 
authority  recognized  for  two  hundred  miles  north  of  his 
home . . .  In  1870,  the  first  of  two  successive  years  of 
drought,  he  made  a  pilgrimage, . . .  and  at  every  centrally- 
located  village  he  made  a  pause,  and  . . .  would  . . .  promise 

1  Lehmann,  “Aberglaube  und  Zauberei,”  p.  18. 

2  Callaway,  “The  Religous  System  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  391. 


I 


ch.  v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  141 


the  people  to  bring  rain  on  the  dried-up  earth,  if  they; 
contributed  liberally  of  their  substance.  But  he  was  yet 
an  unknown  prophet.  They  were  incredulous,  and  mostly 
laughed  him  to  scorn,  whereupon  he  would  leave  the 
village  in  high  dudgeon, . . .  threatening  them  with  a 
continuance  of  drought  another  year  far  worse  than  before. 
Sure  enough,  the  enraged  Hap-od-no  brought  drought  a 
second  year,  and . . .  when  next  year  he  made  a  second 
pilgrimage,  offerings  were  showered  upon  him  in 
abundance,  and  men  heard  him  with  trembling.  He  com¬ 
pelled  them  to  pay  fifty  cents  apiece,  American  money,  and 
many  gladly  gave  more.  And  he  made  rain.”  1  The  assertion 
that  the  power  of  opening  the  heavens  is  committed  into 
the  hands  of  the  medicine  man  finds  further  confirmation. 
Ratzel  says,  “The  shaman  of  northern  Asia,  the  African 
rain-maker,  the  American  medicine  man,  and  the  Australian 
sorcerer  are  alike  in  their  nature,  their  aims,  and  to  some 
extent  in  their  expedients.” 2  The  priests  and  exorcists 
of  China  possess  in  themselves,  it  is  thought,  the  so-called 
“Yang  power”  of  good,  through  which  they  are  expected 
to  avert  droughts  and  other  troubles  by  rendering  harmless 
the  evil  force  of  darkness  or  “Yin.”  3  In  the  New  Hebrides, 
the  medicine  men  were  wont  to  use  their  power  for  good 
or  evil,  but  in  most  cases  for  such  good  ends  as  the 
causing  of  rain.4  The  prophet  Samuel  is  alluded  to  as  a 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contrib.  to  North  Am.  Eth.,  Ill, 
pp.  372-373. 

2  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  I,  p.  58. 

3  De  Groot,  “Religious  System  of  China,”  I,  p.  41. 

4  Leggatt,  “Malekula,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  of  Science,”  1892,  p.  700. 


142 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


rain-maker.1  Among  the  Menomini  Indians,  the  shaman 
juggler  might  become  a  rain-maker  if  he  showed  the 
requisite  power,  and  it  would  be  his  double  function  to 
bring  rains,  when  crops  or  streams  required  it,  or  to 
cause  it  to  cease,  when  the  storm  grew  too  heavy.2  It  is 
averred  that  the  Huns  believed  their  shamans  possessed 
power  to  bring  down  wind,  snow,  hail,  and  rain.3 

The  rain-maker  often  pretends  to  make  rain  by  the  use 
of  sympathetic  magic.  One  of  the  principles  of  this  so- 
called  sympathetic  magic  is  that  any  effect  may  be 
produced  by  imitation.  Thus,  along  the  Bloomfield 
River,  Queensland,  the  rain-maker  dives  into  the 
water,  and  stirs  up  and  squeezes  the  leaves  deposit¬ 
ed  at  the  bottom,  so  as  to  cause  bubbles  to  rise  to 
the  surface.  Rain  can  also  be  produced,  according  to 
popular  belief  in  that  country,  when  one  of  the  “initiated” 
dips  into  the  stream  his  “wommers.”4  Among  the  North 
American  Indians,  it  was  the  custom  of  the  medicine  man 
to  mount  to  the  roof  of  his  hut,  to  rattle  vigorously  a  dried 
gourd  containing  pebbles  in  representation  of  thunder,  and 
to  scatter  water  through  a  reed  on  the  ground  in  order  to 
prevail  upon  the  gods  to  send  rain.5  Among  the  Pima 

Indians,  “during  the  rain  making  ceremonies, . one 

of  the  most  impressive  acts  was  to  pour  dry  earth 
out  of  a  reed  until  it  was  half  empty,  and  it  would  be 

1  I.  Sam.  12:17,  18 

2  Hoffman,  “The  Menomini  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1896  p.  150. 

3  Max  Muller,  “Science  of  Religion,”  p.  88. 

4  Roih,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland 
Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  p.  9. 

5  Brinton,  “Myths  of  the  New  World,”  p.  17. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


143 


seen  that  the  remainder  was  filled  with  water.  ‘Then  it 
rained  right  away.’  If  the  makai  [rain-maker]  put  one  of  the 
magic  slates  in  a  cup  of  water  at  the  time  the  rain  songs 
were  being  sung,  and  also  dug  a  shallow  trench  to  show 
the  rivulets  how  they  should  cut  their  way,  it  would  rain 
in  four  days.  Another  device  of  the  makai  was  to  conceal 
reeds  filled  with  water  and  then,  while  standing  on  a 
house-top  to  direct  the  singers  to  form  a  close  circle 
below  him.  Exhibiting  a  handful  of  eagle  down  or 
eagle  tail  feathers,  and  throwing  dust  on  them  to  show 
how  dry  they  were,  he  would  sweep  his  hand  about 
and  scatter  water  over  the  spectators  and  singers, 
apparently  from  feathers  but  in  reality  from  the  reeds.”  1 
Howitt  writes  that  the  rain-makers  of  Australia  were  said  to 
obtain  their  powers  during  dreams.  One  of  the  well-re¬ 
membered  rain-doctors  of  the  Bratava  clan  “used  to  call  up 
storms  of  wind  and  rain  by  filling  his  mouth  with  water, 
and  squirting  it  towards  the  west.  This  he  did  to  aid  the 
charms  which  he  sang.”  2  The  Shuli  medicine  man  takes 
the  horn  of  an  antelope  and  by  a  method  of  hocus  pocus 
makes  it  into  a  charm  which  he  asserts  never  fails  to  bring 
rain.3  When  the  medicine  man  of  the  Lemnig-Lennape 
wished  to  break  up  a  season  of  drought,  he  was  accustomed 
to  retire  to  a  secluded  place,  and  draw  upon  the  earth  the 
figure  of  a  cross.  He  would  place  upon  the  cross  a  piece 
of  tobacco,  a  gourd,  and  a  bit  of  some  red  material,  and 


1  Russel,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  259. 

2  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  35. 

3  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  III,  p.  42. 


144 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


then  cry  aloud  to  the  spirits  of  the  rains.1  In  the 
Caucasian  province  of  Georgia,  when  the  drought  has 
lasted  long,  the  priests  yoke  marriageable  girls  in  couples 
with  an  ox-yoke  on  their  shoulders,  and  drive  them  through 
puddles,  marshes,  and  rivers,  both  drivers  and  driven  in  the 
meanwhile  screaming,  weeping,  laughing  and  praying.2  In 
the  Tully  River  regions,  North  Queensland,  rain 
is  personified,  and  it  is  thought  that  men  and 
women  named  in  his  honor  can  always  prevail  on 
him  to  come.  This  is  usually  attempted  by  hanging 
a  “whirler”  into  pools  of  water.  Even  if  rain  does  not 
follow  for  several  weeks,  when  it  does  come  it  is  always 
considered  to  be  due  to  the  efforts  of  the  rainmaker.3  At 
Boulia,  according  to  the  same  authority,  the  rain-makers 
dance  around  a  secluded  water-hole,  singing  and  stamping 
their  feet.  This  over,  the  central  man  dives  into  the 
water  and  fixes  into  a  hollow  log,  previously  placed  there, 
the  kumurando  or  “rain-stick,”  an  instrument  strangely 
compounded  of  wood,  gum,  quartz-crystals  or  rain  stones, 
hair,  and  string.  The  men  then  go  back  to  camp,  singing 
and  scratching  their  heads  and  shins  with  twigs.  On  their 
arrival,  they  paint  themselves  with  gypsum,  and  continue 
singing  and  scratching.  When  the  rain  finally  comes, 
the  kumurando  is  removed.4  Continuing,  Roth  says,  “At 
Boulia,  during  the  heavy  floods  and  rains  in  January  and 

February  1895,  I  was  assured  on  native  authority  that 

1  Brinton,  “Myths  of  the  New  World,”  Edition  1896,  p.  115. 

2  Reinegg,  “Beschreibung  des  Kaukasus,”  II,  p.  114.  After 
Frazer,  “Golden  Bough,”  I,  p.  524. 

3  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queensland 
Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  pp.  9  ff.  4  Ibid. 


ch.v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  145 


all  the  rain  and  water  had  as  usual  been  produced  by  the 
mai-orli  men;  when  I  begged  them  to  stay  proceedings 
immediately,  the  reply  came  that  as  the  flood  had  risen 
too  quickly  to  allow  of  the  removal  of  the  rain-stick  from 
out  of  its  submerged  position,  the  rain  would  have  to  run 
its  course.” 1 

Another  function  of  the  medicine  man  is  that  of  healer. 
It  was  established  in  another  chapter  that  the  primitive 
theory  of  disease  is  one  of  ghost  possession.2  Since 
sickness  is  due  to  spirit  agency,  the  proper  means  of 
cure  is  manifestly  the  eviction  of  the  spirits.  But  the 
ordinary  individual  is  unacquainted  with  the  spirit  world, 
and,  therefore,  has  no  knowledge  of  how  to  deal  with  the 
daimons.  The  shaman,  however,  gives  unquestionable 
proof  of  theurgic  power.  He  himself  is  possessed  by 
spirits.  Consequently  nothing  is  more  fitting  than  that  he 
should  be  summoned  in  times  of  sickness  to  deal  with  the 
daimon  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  about  the  recovery 
of  the  patient.  There  is  abundant  evidence  that  among 
savage  tribes  shamans  act  as  physicians.  In  Guiana,  the 
priests  are  called  “Pe-i-men.”  In  addition  to  their  services 
at  the  altar,  they  act  in  the  capacity  of  conjurors,  judges, 
and  doctors.3  In  the  Hawaiian  Islands,  according  to 
Ellis,  priests,  sorcerers,  and  doctors  were  for  the  most 
part  identical  persons.4  Among  the  Saoras  of  Madras,  the 
kudang  first  learns  what  particular  daimon  or  ancestral 

1  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Queens¬ 
land  Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  pp.  9—10.  2  Vide  Chapter  I, 
pp.  7—17.  3  Dalton,  “History  of  British  Guiana,”  I,  p.  87. 

4  Ellis,  “Polynesian  Researches,”  IV,  p.  334. 


ll 


146 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


spirit  is  responsible  for  sickness,  and  then  directs  what 
sacrifice  is  necessary  to  compel  the  spirit  to  take  its 
departure.1  In  Patagonia,  the  priests  and  magicians  are 
also  doctors.2  “The  piais  [medicine  men]  of  South 
America  are  in  the  first  place  magic-doctors  who  charm 
away  illnesses  with  incantations  and  convulsive  movements, 
or  cure  them  with  infusions  of  herbs.  The  Pima  priests  shoot 
painted  arrows  into  the  air  from  painted  bows  to  kill 
sickness.” 3  Allen  and  Thomson  say  that  in  the  interior 
of  Africa  the  same  man  is  at  once  priest,  witch-finder,  and 
doctor.4  Mollien  makes  the  same  assertion.5  According  to 
MacCurdy,  “the  angakoks  are  or  rather  were  the  national 
priests  and  doctors  of  the  Eskimos.  These  two  callings 
are  indissoluble,  inasmuch  as  the  people  of  Ammassalik 
look  upon  sickness  as  a  defect  of  the  soul ;  their  notion  is 
that  in  every  part,  in  every  member  of  the  human  body,  there 
is  a  soul  which  under  certain  circumstances  may  be  lost; 
that  part  of  the  body  from  which  it  has  been  lost  falls  ill, 
and  only  the  angakok  is  able  by  the  aid  of  his  spirits 
to  restore  the  soul  and  thereby  health  to  the  sick  body.”  6 
Boas  writes  of  the  same  people,  “The  principal  office  of  the 
angakok  is  to  find  out  the  reason  of  sickness  and  death,  or 
of  any  other  misfortune  visiting  the  natives.  The  Eskimo 
believes  that  he  is  obliged  to  answer  the  questions  of  the 

1  J.  A.  Soc.  Bombay,  I,  p.  247. 

2  Fitzroy,  "Narrative  of  the  Expedition  and  Surveying  Voyage 
of  the  Beagle,”  II,  p.  152. 

3  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  155. 

4  Allen  and  Thomson,  “Narrative  of  the  Expedition  to  the  River 
Niger,”  1,  p.  327. 

6  Mollien,  “Travels  in  the  Interior  of  Africa,”  p.  52. 

8  MacCurdy,  Sixteenth  International  Congress  of  Americanists, 
p.  652.  After  Sumner’s  Notes. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


147 


angakok  truthfully.  The  lamps  being  lowered,  the  angakok 
sits  down  in  the  back  part  of  the  hut  facing  the  wall.  He 
claps  his  hands,  and  shaking  his  whole  body,  utters  sounds 
which  one  would  hardly  recognize  as  human . . .  Thus  he 
invokes  his  tornaq,  singing  and  shouting  alternately,  the 
listeners,  who  sit  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  joining  the  chorus 
and  answering  the  questions.  Then  he  asks  the  sick 
person:  ‘Did  you  work  when  it  was  forbidden?  Did  you 
eat  when  you  were  not  allowed  to  eat?’  And  if  the  poor 
fellow  happens  to  remember  any  transgression  of  such 
laws,  he  cries,  ‘Yes,  I  have  worked!  Yes,  I  have  eaten V 
And  the  angakok  rejoins,  ‘I  thought  so/  and  issues  his 
commands  as  to  the  manner  of  atonement.” 1  Among  the 
Samoans,  an  old  man  is  regarded  as  the  incarnation  of  the 
god  Taisumalie,  and  acts  as  medicine  man.  He  anoints 
his  patients  with  oil,  pronounces  the  word  “Taisumalie” 
five  times  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  expects  the 
sick  to  recover.2  In  Southern  India,  among  the  Badagas, 
the  same  functionaries — the  kurumbas  — heal  the  sick 
and  officiate  at  marriages  and  funerals.3  The  Tahitian 
doctors,  according  to  Ellis,  almost  invariably  belonged 
to  the  sacerdotal  class.4  The  doctors  among  the 
Tupis  of  Brazil  were  called  “payes.”  In  addition 
to  their  healing  function,  they  served  as  jugglers, 
quacks,  and  priests.5  The  Yakut  shamans,  accord- 

1  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,"  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  p.  692. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  NaturvOlker,”  pp.  49—50. 

3  Shortt,  “Hill  Ranges  of  Southern  India,"  Part  I,  p.  51.  Cited 
from  Spencer’s  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  185. 

4  Ellis,  “Polynesian  Researches,”  IV,  p.  295. 

5  Southey,  “History  of  Brazil,”  I,  p.  237. 


148 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


ing  to  Sieroshevski,  pretend  to  cure  many  ailments,  in¬ 
cluding  mental  derangement,  sterility,  diseases  of  the 
internal  organs,  wounds,  and  broken  bones.  They  look 
upon  consumption,  however,  as  incurable,  and,  “refuse  to 
treat  diarrhoea,  scarlet  fever,  measles,  small-pox,  syphilis, 
scrofula,  and  leprosy,  which  they  call  the  ‘great  disease/ 
They  are  especially  afraid  of  small-pox,  and  take  care) 
not  to  perform  their  rites  in  a  house  where  a  case  of  it  has 
recently  occurred.” 1  Gatlin  says  of  our  Indians,  that  the 
same  persons  practiced  conjury,  magic,  soothsaying,  and 
performed  the  function  of  priest.2  It  is  remarked  of  the 
Carriers  that  their  knowledge  of  medicinal  roots  and  herbs 
was  very  limited,  and  that  their  doctors  were  also  priests.3 
Similarly  the  Dakota  priest,  prophet,  and  doctor  were 
one.4  Mooney  writes  of  the  American  Indians,  “The  doctor 
is  always  a  priest,  and  the  priest  is  always  a  doctor,”  and 
“the  professions  of  medicine  and  religion  are  insepa¬ 
rable.”  5 

While  it  is  true  that  the  function  of  the  medicine  man 
as  healer  is  seen  most  clearly  in  those  societies  whose 
culture  is  lowest  and  least  differentiated,  yet  it  is  found 
that  in  civilization  down  to  comparatively  recent  times 
the  connexion  between  the  priest  class  and  the  treatment  of 
the  sick  has  always  been  very  intimate.  In  ancient  Egypt, 

1  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 

J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  pp.  104—105. 

2  Catlin,  “North  American  Indians,”  I,  p.  41. 

3  Bancroft,  “Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States  of  North  America,” 

I,  p.  124 

4  Schoolcraft,  “History  of  the  Indian  Tribes  of  the  United  States,” 

II,  p.  198. 

5  Mooney,  “Ghost-Dance  Religion,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1896,  p.  980. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


149 


says  Maspero,  “the  cure  workers  were  divided  into 
several  categories.  Some  inclined  towards  sorcery,  and 
had  faith  only  in  formulas  and  talismans;  others  ex¬ 
tolled  the  use  of  drugs ;  they  studied  the  qualities 
of  plants  and  minerals,  and  settled  the  exact  time 
when  [spells]  must  be  pronounced  and  remedies 
applied.  The  best  doctors  carefully  avoided  binding 
themselves  exclusively  to  either  method,  their  treatment 
was  a  mixture  of  remedies  and  exorcism  which  varied  from 
patient  to  patient.  They  were  usually  priests  and  derived 
their  knowledge  from  the  source  of  all  sciences  —  the  works 
of  Thoth  and  Imhoptou,  composed  on  this  subject  soon 
after  the  Creation.” 1  In  ancient  Chaldea,  according  to 
the  same  author,  “consultations  and  medical  treatment 
were  religious  offices  in  which  were  involved  purifications, 
offerings,  and  the  whole  ritual  of  mysterious  words  and 
gestures.2  From  the  national  worship  of  ancient  India,  there 
sprang  the  sciences  of  medicine  and  astronomy.3  Spencer, 
quoting  Gauthier,  says  “‘Among  the  Hebrews  medicine 
was  for  a  long  time  sacerdotal,  as  among  other  ancient 
peoples:  the  Levites  were  the  only  doctors/”4  In  the  early 
history  of  Greece,  medicine  was  believed  to  have  been 
initiated  by  the  gods,  and  those  who  practiced  it  desired 
to  be  accounted  the  offspring  of  Aesculapius.5  Among  the 
Chinese,  according  to  De  Groot,  “exorcists  were  of  a 

certain  class  of  priests  or  priestesses,  entirely  possessed 

1  Maspero,  “Life  in  Egypt  and  Assyria/’  pp.  119 — 120. 

2  Maspero,  “The  Dawn  of  Civilization  in  Egypt  and  Assyria,”  p.  780. 

3  Hunter,  “Indian  Empire,”  p.  148. 

4  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  189. 

5  Grote,  “History  of  Greece,”  I,  pp.  249—250. 


150 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


by  the  spirits  of  Yang,  and  as  such,  were  deemed  especially 
fitted  to  perform  chiefly  three  functions,”  one  of  which 
was  to  “expel  diseases  and  evil  in  general.”1  The  Druids 
were  both  priests  and  doctors,  and  were  accustomed  to 
cut  the  mistletoe,  which  was  considered  an  antidote  for 
poisons,  with  a  golden  knife.2  A  like  connexion  between 
religion  and  medicine  continued  throughout  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  in  England,  as  late  as  1858,  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  granted  medical  diplomas.3 

It  is  thus  seen  that  medicine  men,  despite  their 
selfish  aims  and  ambitions,  despite  their  oppression  of  the 
the  masses,  and  despite  the  multitudinous  faults  and  even 
crimes  that  have  been  laid  to  their  charge,  must  be  credited 
with  initiating,  fathering,  fostering,  and  for  centuries,  with 
preserving  the  art  of  healing. 

The  advantages  accruing  to  the  occupant  of  the 
sacerdotal  office  have  so  far  received  attention.  Those 
benefits  have  been  found  to  be  many.  Under  normal 
circumstances  the  shaman  is  feared,  reverenced,  and 
even  worshipped.  As  representative  of  the  gods,  he 
is  not  amenable  to  the  laws  which  bind  other  members 
of  the  society,  but  is  a  law  unto  himself.  He  feeds  upon 
the  fat  of  the  land,  and  occppies  more  commodious  and 
more  comfortable  quarters  than  any  other  member  of  the 
tribe.  He  is  the  most  important  person  of  primitive  times, 
and  often  attains  the  office  of  secular  as  well  as  spiritual 
ruler.  He,  moreover,  is  sometimes  regarded  as  the  embodi- 

1  De  Groot,  “Religious  System  of  China,”  I,  pp.  40 — 41. 

2  Pliny,  “Natural  History,”  B.  XVI,  C.  95. 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  193. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


151 


ment  of  the  power  which  he  represents,  and  divine  honors 
are  accorded  to  him. 

All  of  this  is  most  desirable,  but  there  is  another  side 
to  the  question.  No  path  is  continually  strewn  with  roses ; 
it  is  impossible  under  conditions  of  the  survival  of  the 
fitter  for  any  man  to  be  “carried  to  the  skies  on  flowery  beds 
of  ease.”  The  life  of  the  medicine  man  is  not  altogether 
one  of  sunshine.  In  some  cases  the  practice  of  his  pro¬ 
fession  is  attended  with  great  dangers.  Russell,  for  example, 
in  his  account  of  the  Pima  Indians  writes,  “A  plague, 
which  killed  many  victims  in  a  single  day,  once  prevailed 
throughout  the  villages.  Three  medicine  men  who  were 
suspected  of  causing  the  disease  by  their  magic  were  killed, 
and  nobody  was  sick  any  more.” 1  And  again  from  the 
same  author  are  the  words,  “An  epidemic  during  this  year, 
(1884),  among  the  Kwahadks,  caused  the  execution  of  two 
medicine  men  who  were  suspected  of  bringing  the 
visitation  upon  the  tribe.”  2 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  as  long  as  the  medicine  man 
succeeds  as  rain-maker  all  is  well,  and  he  receives  great 
honors.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  must  succeed  part  of  the 
time  by  mere  chance,  but  it  is  impossible  to  be  successful 
in  every  instance.  What  happens  in  case  of  failure? 
Sometimes  it  means  not  only  the  ruin  of  reputation,  but 
execution  to  the  shaman.  Callaway  states  that  in  Zululand, 
when  it  rained  according  to  the  word  of  a  medicine  man, 
the  people  said,  “Truly  he  is  a  doctor.”  But  the  next 

1  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.,  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  48. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  59. 


152 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


year,  when  he  predicted  rain,  the  heavens  refused  to  open. 
The  people  then  persecuted  him  beyond  measure,  and  it 
is  even  said  that  they  put  him  to  death.1  Among  the  Bari 
people,  the  doctor  who  does  not  succeed  in  bringing  rain 
when  it  is  needed,  loses  not  only  his  reputation  and 
practice,  but  also  his  head.  In  1859,  the  people  ex¬ 
perienced  a  terrible  famine,  and  they  demanded  of  the 
rain  doctor  that  he  bring  rain  at  once.  He  exerted  all  his 
powers  but  in  vain.  The  drought  continued.  Thereupon 
the  indignant  people  killed  him.2 

Not  only  failures  in  rain-making,  but  frequently  other 
failures  are  punishable  by  death.  Ellis  says  of  the 
Tshi-speaking  peoples,  “If  the  priests  fail  to  per¬ 
form  the  wonders  for  which  they  have  been  paid, 
they  are  put  to  death.  For  example,  during  the 
British-Ashanti  war  of  1873 — 1874,  a  priest  was 
required  to  inform  the  public  on  which  day  the  British 
gunboat  lying  at  anchor  would  put  out  to  sea.  After  the 
proper  conjuration,  he  announced  that  it  would  depart 
on  the  next  day.  At  sunrise  the  next  morning,  however, 
instead  of  the  departure  of  the  gunboat,  two  others  hove 
ominously  upon  the  horizon.  The  result  was  that  the  priest 
was  beheaded.” 3 

Failure  to  effect  cures  in  cases  of  sickness  may  result 
in  loss  of  life  to  the  primitive  healer.  In  Patagonia, 
the  wizards  were  sometimes  killed  when  unsuccessful  in 

1  Callaway,  “Religious  Systems  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  391. 

2  Ratzel,  “History  of  Mankind,”  III,  p.  26. 

3  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  124. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


153 


the  treatment  of  disease.1  Among  the  Mohave,  the  relatives 
of  a  dead  man  consult  a  spirit  doctor,  and  ascertain  whether 
their  kinsman  died  from  ignorance  or  neglect  on  the  part 
of  his  physician.  If  the  physician  was  to  blame,  he  must 
either  flee  for  his  liberty  and  life,  or  throw  the  blame  upon 
some  witch.2  A  native  healer  among  the  Apache,  according 
to  Bourke,  was  in  danger,  if  he  let  even  one  patient  die, 
provided  the  spirit  doctor  gave  out  that  he  was  culpably 
negligent  or  ignorant.  In  such  a  case  the  unsuccessful 
healer  could  escape  destruction  at  the  hands  of  the  relatives 
of  the  dead  man  only  by  flight,  or  by  proving  to  their  satis¬ 
faction  that  the  death  was  due  to  witchcraft.3  Among  the 
Mi-Wok  of  Southern  California,  the  patient  must  pay 
well  for  the  service  of  a  medicine  man.  But  if  he  dies, 
his  friends  may  kill  the  doctor.4  Although  the  Negritos 
of  Zambales,  Philippine  Islands,  treat  their  mediquillos  with 
respect  and  awe,  the  profession  is  not  popular,  since,  if  the 
efforts  of  a  medicine  man  toward  curing  a  patient  prove 
unsuccessful,  he  is  held  blameworthy,  and  even  runs  the  risk 
of  being  killed  for  his  failure.5  It  is  not  merely  among  the 
Tshi-speaking  peoples  that  in  the  event  of  failure  the 
populace  sometimes  proclaims  the  priest  an  impostor, 
and  frequently  puts  him  to  death.  Roth  says  of  the 
Dyaks,  “On  the  Lingga  once,  a  Dyak  doctor  was  engaged 
to  attend  a  sick  man,  and  in  the  event  of  his  remaining 

1  Falkner,  “Description  of  Patagonia,”  p.  117. 

2  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  454. 

3  Ibid.,  p.  466. 

4  Powers, “Tribes  of  California,”  Contrib.  to  North  Am.  Eth .,  Ill,  p.  354. 

5  Reed,  “Negritos  of  Zambales,”  p.  66. 


154 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


alive  three  days,  a  payment  in  jars  was  to  be  made  as  a 
fee.  The  three  days  expired,  and  the  payment  was  made, 
when  the  patient  died;  upon  which  the  son  of  the  dead 
man,  an  impetuous  young  lad,  demanded  the  restoration  of 
the  jars — a  request  the  doctor  refused  to  accede  to.  The 
son  drew  his  parang,  and  exclaiming,  ‘My  name  may 
return  to  the  skies  V  cut  down  the  doctor,  and  severely 

wounded  his  Son.” _ “Spencer  St.  John,”  continues 

Roth,  “mentions  the  case  of  a  Bukar  father  who  on  the 
death  of  his  child  accused  the  medicine  man  of  wilfully 
causing  its  death,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot.”  1  Among 
the  Persians,  when  a  patient  dies  under  treatment, 

the  doctor  not  only  loses  his  fee,  but  incurs  blame,  for  the 
opinion  prevails  that  sick  persons  would  not  die  but  for 
the  influence  of  the  physician.  As  soon  as  it  is 
evident  that  the  end  is  at  hand,  the  doctor  is  accustomed 
to  withdraw,  and  by  this  means  the  patient  and  his  family 
are  officially  notified,  so  to  speak,  that  there  is  no  hope. 
If  a  doctor  unwittingly  visits  a  sick  chamber  where  the 
patient  has  passed  away,  he  is  subjected  to  shameful 
treatment  by  the  women  and  servants.  For  this  reason  the 
doctor  usually  sends  out  scouts,  who  inform  him  of  the 

houses  where  disease  has  been  fatal,  and  by  this  means 

he  knows  which  places  to  avoid.2  By  the  Indians  of 
Oregon,  all  homicides  were  attributed  to  medicine  men, 
who  were  put  to  death  when  any  one  wias  murdered. 
Among  that  people,  therefore,  while  the  position  of 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  285. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  pp.  59—60. 


ch.  y _  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  155 

doctor  was  honorable  and  fraught  with  great  power, 
novices,  realizing  the  dangers  attendant  upon  it,  sometimes 
forsook  that  vocation  for  the  military  profession.1 
With  all  his  special  prerogatives,  therefore,  it  is  evident 
that  in  case  of  nomsuccess  the  status  of  the  medicine  man 
is  at  times  far  from  enviable. 

As  a  means  of  self-protection,  however,  it  is  the 
business  of  the  shaman  to  keep  his  failures  from  counting, 
and  no  one  is  better  able  than  he  to  explain  away  his  ill- 
success.  Among  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples,  when  predicting 
the  future,  the  priests  speak  in  ambiguous  phrases,  so  that 
whatever  may  happen  they  may  claim  to  have  prophesied 
correctly.  When  their  predictions  are  falsified  by  future 
events,  they  usually  succeed  in  exculpating  themselves 
by  asserting  that  the  spirits  were  angry  because  of  some 
offence  on  the  part  of  the  people,  and  consequently 
in  order  to>  punish  the  recalcitrants  led  their  servants 
to  predict  falsely.  Another  kind  of  excuse  given  is  that 
gods  more  powerful  than  the  one  consulted  have  been 
propitiated  by  the  adversary,  and  that  these  have  nullified 
all  the  efforts  of  the  priest  first  engaged.  When  on  account 
of  a  false  prophecy  the  people  become  suspicious  of  the 
genuineness  of  one  priest,  and  seek  out  another,  they  are  at 
a  disadvantage,  for  the  priests  are  in  league  against  them, 
and  in  order  that  no  two  priests  may  make  contradictory 
statements,  they  generally  inform  one  another  of  every 
prediction.2  Among  the  Apache,  in  nearly  every  boast  of 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  pp.  59—60. 

2  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  126—127. 


156 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


power  which  the  medicine  man  makes,  there  is  “usually 
a  saving  clause  to  the  effect  that  no  witchcraft  must  be 
made  or  the  spell  will  not  work,  no  women  shall  be  near 
in  a  delicate  state,”  there  must  be  no  neglect  or  dis¬ 
obedience  on  the  part  of  the  patient,  and  there  must  be  no 
other  medicine  man  at  work  with  counter-charms.1  Among 
sundry  Australian  tribes,  if  the  medicine  man  fails,  the 
failure  is  due  to  the  power  of  some  hostile  wizard.2  The 
following  description  by  Howitt  of  the  failure  of  a  rain¬ 
making  performance  in  Australia  is  given  in  order  to 
illustrate  the  facility  with  which  the  rain-maker  sometimes 
gets  himself  out  of  an  uncomfortable  situation.  “Far 
removed  from  the  camp  and  without  any  assistance  the 
rain-maker  collected  a  number  of  nests  of  the  white  ant 

which  he . shaped  into  an  oblong  mound . He 

next  made  a  trench, . . .  continually  repeating  the  word 
*do-re;  throughout  the  whole  procedure  which  he  finally 
brought  to  a  close  by  sprinkling  some  water  in  all 
directions  of  the  compass.  Before  going  away  he  took 
two  sticks  about  eighteen  inches  long,  rolled  them  up  in 
reeds,  and  fixed  them  into  either  end  of  the  mound,  upon 
which,  as  he  walked  away,  he  threw  some  water  behind 
him.  No  one  was  allowed  to  go  near  the  spot  where 
rain-making  was  practiced.  So  much  so  that  when  rain 
did  not  subsequently  fall,  on  this  present  occasion  (a  white 
man  having  promised  him  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
camp  a  bag  of  flour  if  rain  came  within  twenty  four  hours), 

1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  459. 

2  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI.,  p.  25. 


ch.v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  157 


the  rain-maker  explained  his  non-success  to  the  other 
natives  as  due  to  the  presence  of  a  white  missionary.  On 
other  occasions  when  rain  does  not  fall,  failure  is  explained 
by  some  one  having  visited  the  forbidden  spot.” 1 

If  his  patient  dies,  or  if  the  heavens  remain  cloudless 
in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  bring  rain,  the  medicine  man  is 
usually  clever  enough  to  assure  the  people  that  had 
it  not  been  for  his  efforts,  conditions  would  have  been 
much  worse,  and  that  for  a  larger  fee  he  will  put  forth 
greater  exertions  on  behalf  of  his  clients.  Thus  Spencer 
says  that  in  Obbo,  when  the  country  needs  rain,  the  rain¬ 
maker  explains  to  his  clients  “how  much  he  regrets  that 
their  conduct  has  compelled  him  to  afflict  them  with  un¬ 
favorable  weather,  but  that  it  is  their  own  fault _ He 

must  have  goats  and  corn.  ‘No  goats,  no  rain;  that's  our 
contract,  my  friends/  says  Katchiba . . .  Should  his  people 
complain  of  too  much  rain,  he  threatens  to  pour  storms 
of  lightning  upon  them  forever,  unless  they  bring  him  so 

many  hundred  baskets  of  corn,”  and  other  presents - 

“His  subjects  have  the  most  thorough  confidence  in  his 
power.”  2 

The  primitive  medicine  man,  furthermore,  is  fortunate 
that  his  constituents  are  at  the  stage  of  intellectual  develop¬ 
ment  in  which  they  cannot  appreciate  negative  evidence,  and, 
therefore,  allow  one  success  to  outweigh  many  failures.  Of 
the  inability  to  estimate  the  worth  of  negative  evidence,  Lord 
Bacon  writes,  “The  human  understanding,  when  it  has  once 

1  Roth,  “Superstition,  Magic,  and  Medicine,”  North  Qeensland 
Ethnography,  Bulletin  No.  5,  p.  9. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  pp.  339—340. 


158 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


adopted  an  opinion,  (either  as  being  the  received  opinion 
or  as  being  agreeable  to  itself),  draws  all  things  to  support 
and  agree  with  it.  And  though  there  be  a  greater  number 
and  weight  of  instances  to  be  found  on  the  other  side,  yet 
these  it  either  neglects  and  despises,  or  else  by  some 
distinction  sets  aside  and  rejects ;  in  order  that  by  this  great 
and  pernicious  pre-determination  the  authority  of  its  former 
conclusions  may  remain  inviolate.  And,  therefore,  it  was 
a  good  answer  that  was  made  by  one,  who,  when  they 
showed  him  hanging  in  the  temple  a  picture  of  those  who 
had  paid  their  vows  as  having  escaped  shipwreck,  and 
would  have  him  say  whether  he  did  not  now  acknowledge 
the  power  of  the  gods,  ‘Aye/  asked  he  again,  ‘but  where 
are  they  painted  that  were  drowned  after  their  vows?”' 1 

As  to  the  actual  fees  which  the  medicine  man  expects 
and  receives  for  his  services,  while  in  some  instance  they 
are  small,2  in  the  greater  number  of  cases  they  are 
handsome.  Thus  in  the  New  Hebrides,  the  native  doctor 
used  to  prepare  and  eat  the  greater  portion  of  food  given 
by  the  natives  to  propitiate  the  spirits.3  Among  the  Mi- 
Wok  of  Southern  California,  the  shaman  had  to  be  paid  in 
advance.  Hence,  a  person  desirous  of  his  services  always 
brought  an  offering,  and  flung  it  down  on  the  ground, 
without  saying  a  word,  thereby  indicating  that  he  wished 
its  equivalent  in  medical  treatment.4  Thurston  writes  that 

1  Bacon,  “Novum  Organum,”  Modern  Classical  Philosophers  by 
Rand,  p.  33. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  pp.  56  ff. 

3  J.  Laurie,  “Aneityum,”  Aust.  Ass.  for  Adv.  Science,  1892,  p.  711. 

4  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contrib.  North  Am.  Eth.,  Ill, 
p.  354. 


ch.  v  FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  159 

the  people  of  South  India,  on  recovering  from  illness, 
bring  to  the  priest  thanksgiving  offerings  of  silver  and 
gold.  These  are  deposited  in  a  vessel  kept  for  that  purpose 
in  the  temple.  Children  in  addition  to  the  silver  articles 
have  to  place  in  the  vessels  one  or  two  handfuls  of 
coins  for  the  benefit  of  the  priests.1  Henry  Ling  Roth 
says  of  the  inhabitants  of  Sarawak,  “For  getting  back 
the  soul  of  a  man,  the  medicine  man  receives  six  gallons 
of  uncleaned  rice;  for  extracting  a  spirit  from  a  human 
body,  the  same  fee,  and  for  getting  the  soul  of  the  rice  at 
harvest  feasts,  he  receives  three  cups  from  every  family 
in  whose  apartment  he  obtains  it.  The  value  of  six  gallons 
of  uncleaned  rice  is  the  sixtieth  part  of  the  amount  obtained 
by  an  able  bodied  man  for  his  annual  farm  labor.”  2  Of 
the  Indians  of  Southern  California,  Powers  relates  that 
when  a  man  is  sick  he  is  “wrapped  tight  in  skins  and 
blankets,  deposited  with  his  feet  to  the  fire,  a  stake  driven 
down  near  his  head,  and  strings  of  shell-beads  stretched 
from  it  to  his  ankles,  knees,  wrists,  and  elbows.  These 
strings  of  money  exercise  the  same  magical  effect  on  the 
valetudinary  savage  that  a  gold  ‘twenty/  placed  in  the 
hand  of  the  doctor,  does  upon  the  dyspeptic  pale-face. 
The  cunning  Aesculapian  adjusts  the  distance  to  the  stake, 
and  the  consequent  length  of  the  strings  according  to  the 
wealth  of  the  invalid.  If  he  is  rich,  then  by  the  best  divining 
and  scrutiny  of  his  art,  the  stake  ought  to  be  planted 
about  five  feet  distant;  if  poor,  only  one  or  two.  After 

1  Thurston,  “Ethnographic  Notes  on  South  India,”  p.  353. 

2  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  p.  267. 


160 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


he  has  ‘powwowed*  sufficiently  around  the  unfortunate 
person  to  make  a  sound  man  sick  or  deaf  at  least,  he 
appropriates  the  money.** 1  According  to  Hoffman,  a  suc¬ 
cessful  Ojibway  hunter  will,  if  he  ascribes  his  good  luck  to 
the  waheno,  give  him  out  of  gratitude  a  portion  of  the 
game.2  Concerning  the  Peruvians,  Balboa  says  that  the 
medicine  men  refused  to  help  persons  who  were  not 
able  to  pay  the  fee  which  they  demanded.3  A  Yakut 
shaman,  if  successful,  is  paid  a  sum  varying  from  one 
ruble  to  twenty-five  rubles  or  more,  besides  being  entitled 
to  his  entertainment  and  to  a  portion  of  the  sacrificial 
animal.  If  the  shaman  be  unsuccessful,  however,  he 
receives  nothing.4  It  would  seem  that  those  unable  to 
pay  the  medicine  man  are  in  a  bad  way  in  Guiana,  for 
it  is  said  that  those  unfortunates  have  no  names.5  In 
East  Central  Africa,  the  headman  gets  his  income  chiefly 
from  voluntary  offerings,  but  the  medicine  man  levies  his 
fees  rigidly.6  In  West  Africa,  says  Miss  Kingsley,  “If 
you  want  a  favor  from  the  medicine  man  you  must  give 
him  a  present — a  fowl,  a  goat,  a  blanket,  or  a  basket 
of  vegetables.  If  you  want  a  big  thing,  and  want  it  badly, 
you  had  better  give  him  a  slave,  because  the  slave  is 
alike  more  intrinsically  valuable  and  more  useful.** 7  When 

1  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contribut.  to  North  Am.  Eth., 
Ill,  p.  217. 

2  Hoffman,  “The  Midewiwin  of  the  Ojibway,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII,  p.  157. 

3  Balboa,  “History  of  Peru.”  After  Bourke,  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p  467. 

4  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI.  p  102. 

5  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  468. 

J.  A.  I.,  XXII,  p.  105. 

7  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  p.  176. 


rav _ FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  161 

the  Dyaks  are  questioned  as  to  their  belief  in  the  easily- 
exposed  deceits  of  their  priests,  they  say  they  have  no 
faith  either  in  the  men  or  in  their  pretensions;  but  the 
custom  has  descended  to  them  from  father  to  son,  and  they 
still  pay  those  priests  heavy  sums  to  perform  the  ancient 
rites.1  “As  the  services  of  the  manang  bali  ”  [medicine 
man  dressed  in  female  attire]  Henry  Ling  Roth  goes  on  to 
say,  “are  in  great  demand,  and  he  is  well  paid  for  his 
trouble,  he  soon  grows  rich,  and  when  he  is  able  to  afford 

it,  he  takes  to  himself  a  husband _ But  as  long  as  he 

is  poor  he  cannot  even  dream  of  marriage,  as  nothing  but 
the  prospect  of  inheriting  his  wealth  would  ever  induce 
a  man  to  become  his  husband,  and  thus  incur  the  ridicule 
of  the  whole  tribe . . .  The  only  pleasure  of  the  husband 
must  be  in  seeing  his  quasi  wife  accumulate  wealth,  and 
wishing  her  a  speedy  demise,  so  that  he  may  inherit  the 
property.” 2  In  Nubra,  Tibet,  the  rewards  of  the  lamas 
consist  of  fees,  tips  (chang),  and  in  general  the  best  that 
the  land  affords.3  Among  the  Saoras  of  Madras,  the 
fees  of  the  medicine  man  are  fixed,  and  include  parts 
of  the  animal  sacrificed,  such  as  the  head  and  a  leg,  and 
portions  of  the  food  and  drink,  tobacco  and  goods,  pre¬ 
sented  to  the  gods  as  offerings.4 ,  The  efficacy  of  the  arts 
of  the  Eskimo  angakok  is  supposed  to  depend  on  the 
amount  of  his  recompense.5  Bourke  quotes  Spencer  to 

the  effect  that  the  Eskimo  priest  receives  his  fee 

1  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  266. 

2  Ibid.,  I,  p.  270. 

3  Bishop,  “Among  the  Tibetans,”  p.  91. 

4  J.  A.  Soc.  Bombay,  I,  p.  247. 

5  Nansen,  “Eskimo  Life,”  p.  283. 


12 


162 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


beforehand,1  and  Boas  says,  that  the  angakok  who 
cures  his  patient  is  paid  immediately  and  liberally.2 
Among  the  Pima  Indians,  the  fee  may  consist  of  a 
basket,  some  wheat,  a  cow,  a  horse,  or  some  similar 
gift.  If  the  medicine  man  sings  three  nights  he  will  get  a 
horse.  If  the  sick  man  dies,  however,  after  the  native  doctor 
has  sung  two  nights  he  will  receive  some  compensation, 
though  not  a  horse.3  Among  the  Land  Dyaks,  Henry  Ling 
Roth  writes,  “whether  the  patient  lives  or  dies  the  manang 
is  rewarded  for  his  pains;  he  makes  sure  of  that  before 
he  undertakes  the  case,  for  he  is  put  to  considerable 
inconvenience,  being  fetched  away  from  his  own  home,  and 
obliged  to  take  up  his  abode  with  the  patient;  he  can 
therefore  undertake  only  one  case  at  a  time,  but  to  it  he 
devotes  his  whole  attention.  He  takes  his  meals  with  the 
family,  and  in  other  ways  makes  himself  quite  at  home. 
If  a  cure  be  effected,  he  receives  a  valuable  present  in 
addition  to  his  ordinary  expenses.”  4  Among  the  Karok,  if  a 
patient  dies,  the  medicine  man  loses  his  fee.  If  he  refuses 
to  visit  a  sick  person  and  that  individual  dies,  the  medicine 
man  must  pay  the  relatives  a  sum  equivalent  to  the  fee 
offered  him.  A  famous  medicine  man,  when  summoned  to 
go  twenty  or  thirty  miles,  is  well  paid — sometimes  receiving 
a  horse  and  often,  if  the  patient  is  rich,  two  horses.5  The 
Ventura  Indian  tribes  had  the  following  custom,  as  reported 

by  Yates:  “When  people  were  desirous  of  obtaining  favor 

1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  467. 

2  Boas,  “Central  Eskimo,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VI,  p.  594. 

3  Russell,  “Pima  Indians,”  Bur.  Eth.,  XXVI,  p.  261. 

4  Roth,  “Natives  of  Sarawak  and  British  North  Borneo,”  I,  p.  266. 

5  Powers,  “Tribes  of  California,”  Contrib.  North  Am.  Eth.,  Ill,  p.  27. 


CH.  V 


163 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


from  the  spirits,  they  went  to  the  house  of  the  medicine 
man,  where  an  idol  was  kept  in  a  basket  or  other  re¬ 
ceptacle,  and  threw  offerings  into  the  receptacle  until  the 
idol  was  covered  up.  The  gifts  were  appropiated  by 
the  medicine  man.” 1  In  British  Victoria,  the  medicine  man 
does  not  share  in  the  work,  but  is  supported  by  the  gifts 
of  the  other  members  of  the  tribe.2  Hoffman  quotes 
Marquette  to  the  effect  that  the  Miami,  Mascotin,  and 
Kickapoo  Indians  were  very  liberal  towards  their  physicians, 
on  the  assumption  that  the  more  they  paid,  the  more  potent 
would  the  remedies  prove.3  Among  the  Kirghiz,  the  shaman 
receives  as  a  reward  the  best  part  of  the  sacrificial  offering, 
and  the  carcasses  of  the  slain  animals.  Rich  people  make 
extra  gifts,  a  live  sheep  or  a  new  gown.4  The  Navaho 
medicine  man  may  own  property,  but  his  living  comes 
largely  from  practicing  his  ceremonies,  since  for  these 
his  fees  are  excellent.5  Of  the  Omahas,  it  is  related  that 
after  a  company  of  medicine  men  had  succeeded  in  effect¬ 
ing  a  cure,  “the  fees  were  distributed.  These  were  horses, 
robes,  bear-claw  necklaces,  eagle  feathers,  embroidered 
leggings,  and  other  articles  of  value.”  6  In  Nias,  sickness  is 
so  costly  a  thing  that  one  often  meets  people  who  have 
sold  themselves  into  slavery  in  order  to  get  the  necessary 
funds  with  which  to  purchase  the  services  of  the  medicine 

1  Yates,  “Notes  on  the  Plummets  or  Sinkers,”  Smithsonian 
Report,  1886,  p.  305. 

2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  56. 

3  Hoffman,  “TheMidewiwin  of  theOjibway,”  Bur.Eth.,  1891,  p.152. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  57. 

5  Matthews,  “The  Night  Chant,  A  Navaho  Ceremony,”  Memoirs 
Am.  Museum  of  Nat.  Hist.,  p.  3. 

c  Fletcher-Laflesche,  ”The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p  489. 

12, 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


164 


man.1  The  same  is  true  of  the  Tshi-speaking  peoples, 
whose  priests  require  recompense  before  the  first  consul¬ 
tation,  and  make  such  extortionate  demands  afterwards 
that  people,  in  order  to  secure  their  valuable  aid,  have  been 
reduced  to  poverty  and  in  some  cases  to  slavery.2  The 
missionaries  Ramseyer  and  Kuhne,  Ellis  goes  on  to  say, 
have  left  on  record  “that  a  fee  was  paid  byKwoffi 
Kari-Kari  to  the  priests,  for  consulting  the  gods  concerning 
the  probable  result  of  a  contemplated  expedition  to  the 
Gold  Coast.  This  fee  consisted  of  four  hundred  dollars 
in  gold  dust,  twenty  loads  of  salt,  twenty  goats,  twenty 
sheep,  seventy  bottles  of  rum,  and  fifty  slaves.  If  the 
gods  granted  victory,  one  thousand  additional  slaves  were 
promised.”  3  A  medicine  man  of  the  negroes  of  the  Loango 
coast  first  has  to  determine  what  nail  has  caused  the 
sickness,  and  for  this  he  receives  pay  Then  the  nail 
must  be  drawn  out.  For  this  he  receives  more  pay. 
When  he  turns  his  attention  to  the  patient,  he 
receives  additional  pay.4  The  Dakota  Indians  often  gave 
a  horse  for  the  service  of  the  medicine  man,  and  were  ready 
to  give  all  they  possessed  and  even  to  go  into  debt,  in 
order  to  procure  the  aid  of  the  servant  of  the  gods.5 
In  Korea,  the  sums  demanded  by  the  shamans  are 
so  great  that  they  are  estimated  to  aggregate  annually  two 
million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars.6 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  59. 

2  Ellis,  “Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,”  pp.  124—125. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  58. 

5  Ibid. 

6  Bishop,  “Korea,”  p.  403. 


CH.  V 


FUNCTIONS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


165 


SUMMARY.  It  has  been  shown  that  while  in  well- 
developed  societies  there  is  specialization,  as  a  result  of 
which  different  activities  are  exercised  by  different  persons, 
in  the  lowest  stages  of  culture  the  medicine  man  sums 
up  in  himself  the  various  functions  of  prophet,  priest, 
king,  rain-maker,  and  healer.  A  person,  therefore,  of 
such  importance  is  certain  to  occupy  a  position  of  great 
dignity.  And  yet  the  man  who  is  successful  in  attaining  the 
much  coveted  place  often  does  so  at  his  own  peril. 
Sometimes  the  people  will  brook  no  such  thing  as  failure.  The 
attitude  of  man  in  religious  matters  is  strangely  inconsist¬ 
ent  He  sometimes  regards  the  gods, as  powerful  enough  to 
give  him  any  material  blessing  he  asks  ;  but  when  they  fail 
to  grant  his  requests,  he  considers  them  so  weak  that  he 
destroys  them  and  takes  unto  himself  other  gods.  The 
medicine  man  goes  up  and  down  in  popular  estimation 
with  his  gods.  He  sometimes  is  feared  to  such 
an  extent  that  people  upon  seeing  him  occasionally 
die  from  fright.  But  when  he  fails  to  make  a  true 
prophecy,  or  when  he  fails  in  rain-making,  or  in  healing 
the  sick,  he  is  often  subjected  to  violent  abuse,  and  is 
sometimes  put  to  death.  The  shaman,  however,  is  generally 
shrewd  enough  to  have  no  failures,  or  if  he  has  them,  not 
to  allow  them  to  count.  In  rain-making,  for  example,  he 
prolongs  his  operations  until  rain  comes,  which  sooner  or 
later  is  inevitable.  He  then  takes  the  credit  to  himself. 
The  people  are  so  grateful  for  the  rain  that  they  readily 
attribute  it  to  the  powers  of  the  rain-maker,  and  accord 
him  magnificent  material  rewards.  For  foretelling  the 


166 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


future,  for  acting  as  mediator  with  the  spirits,  and  for 
exercising  his  powers  as  healer,  the  recompense  likewise 
is  often  great — so  great  that  the  recipient,  by  means  of 
wealth  thus  attained,  sometimes  becomes  chief  of  the 
tribe  or  head  of  the  nation. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  MEDICINE  MAN. 

Since  the  methods  of  the  medicine  man  in  dealing  with 
spirits  are  substantially  the  same  in  every  case,  regardless 
of  the  function  he  is  exercising,  an  example  of  his 
efforts  in  the  celestial  sphere  on  behalf  of  men  is  to  be 
found  in  the  behavior  of  the  primitive  doctor  in  the 
chamber  of  sickness.  To  this  end  the  daimonistic  theory 
of  disease,  and  the  savage  conception  of  other-worldliness 
must  be  recalled.  The  reader  will  remember  that  among 
primitive  peoples  ignorant  of  the  actual  cause  of  sickness, 
there  is  no  notion  of  such  a  thing  as  death  apart  from 
agency.1  They  attribute  the  results  of  what  a  civilized  man 
would  call  accident  to  the  baleful  influence  of  evil  spirits. 
Many  cases  of  death  by  violence  come  under  the  obser¬ 
vation  of  nature  folk,  but  even  in  these  they  be¬ 
lieve,  as  among  the  tribal  groups  about  Maryborough, 
Queensland,  that  when  a  warrior  is  speared  in  a  ceremonial 
fight  his  skill  in  warding  off  or  evading  thrusts  has  been 
lost  because  of  the  malignance  of  an  ill-disposed  daimon.2 
It  is  not  difficult,  therefore,  to  see,  as  has  been  abundantly 
shown,3  that  the  innumerable  cases  of  sickness  and  death 
from  invisible  causes  are  ascribed  by  man  at  this  un¬ 
developed  stage  of  culture  to  the  evil  doing  of  unseen 

adversaries. 

1  Vide  pp.  4—5,  14,  120. 

2  Howitt,  “Native  Tribes  of  Southeastern  Australia,”  p.  357. 

3  Vide  pp.  7—19. 


168 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


If  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  in  primitive  belief  the 
other  world  repeats  this  world,1  and  that  its  inhabitants 
repeat  the  thoughts,  sensations,  emotions,  and  ideals  of 
their  originals,  it  will  readily  be  perceived  that,  according 
to  savage  notions,  the  ghosts  and  spirits  may  be  dealt  with 
in  the  same  way  as  men,  and  may,  therefore,  either  by 
threats  and  coercion  or  by  bribes  and  praise,  be  induced 
to  grant  blessings  or  to  desist  from  inflicting  evils.  Hence 
the  methods  of  the  individual  set  apart  for  the  special 
purpose  of  dealing  with  the  invisible  powers  are  broadly 
contrasted  as  antagonistic  and  sympathetic.  In  other  words, 
in  his  treatment  of  disease,  the  medicine  man  employs  a 
positive  and  a  negative  method — depending  on  the  notion 
entertained  as  to  the  character  of  the  god,  whether  he  is 
benevolent  and  only  temporarily  angry,  or  malevolent  and 
venting  his  spite.  In  the  former  case,  the  method  is  that 
of  propitiation ;  in  the  latter  that  of  avoidance,  coercion,  or 
exorcism.  According  to  Lippert,  man  first  conceives  the 
attitude  of  the  deities  to  be  unfriendly,2  and  not  until  much 
later  does  he  think  of  them  as  entertaining  beneficent 
thoughts  towards  the  children  of  earth.3  For  the  sake  of 
convenience,  the  two  methods  will  be  considered  in  the 
inverse  order  to  that  stated  above,  first,  the  positive 
and  secondly,  the  negative  method. 

The  medicine  man,  like  the  practitioner  of  today, 
when  called  to  the  bedside  of  a  sufferer,  first  makes  his 
diagnosis.  The  twentieth  century  physician,  however, 

1  Vide,  pp.  6  ff;  pp.  22  ff.  2  Vide  p.  23.  8  Lippert,  “Kultur- 

geschichte,”  I,  pp.  108  ff. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


169 


would  say  that  his  predecessor  in  practice  does  not  conduct 
his  diagnosis  along  scientific  lines.  For  the  primitive 
doctor  first  makes  an  effort  to  discover  whether  the  sickness 
is  due  to  the  anger  of  an  enraged  daimon,  the  loss  of 
the  “kidney  fat,”  the  absence  of  the  soul,  or  to  the  presence 
of  bones,  quartz,  crystals,  or  other  foreign  substances, 
introduced  into  the  body  of  the  patient  by  the  magical 
power  of  some  adverse  wizard  or  medicine  man.  In  the 
second  place,  the  shaman  must  discover  how  to  restore 
the  lost  part,  or  how  to  break  the  evil  spell  under  which  the 
sick  man  is  suffering;  or  how  to  extract  the  extraneous 
substance,  or  by  what  means  he  can  expel  the  evil  spirit 
from  the  body  of  the  person  whom  it  is  afflicting.1  As 
long  as  ghosts  and  spirits  are  thought  of  as  inimical,  the 
medicine  man  resorts  to:  avoidance  or  exorcism. 

As  time  goes  on,  however,  the  manner  of  thinking  on 
the  part  of  man  advances.  He  ceases  to  regard  the  gods  as 
antagonistic  to  his  welfare,  aims,  and  ambitions,  and  comes 
to  think  of  them  as  friendly  powers,  concerned  in  his 
happiness  and  well-being,  and  sympathetic  when  he  comes 
into  collision  with  the  aleatory  element.2  With  this  change 
in  thought  as  to  the  attitude  of  the  superior  powers,  the 
method  of  the  medicine  man  in  dealing  with  them  experiences 
a  change.  He  no  longer  opposes,  antagonizes,  or  strives 
to  compel  the  disease  daimon  to  take  its  flight,  but  begins 
to  flatter,  to  coddle,  to  wheedle,  and  to  bribe  the  inhabitants 
of  the  imaginary  environment  in  order  to  enlist  their 

support  in  his  efforts  on  behalf  of  his  patient.3  For  since 

1  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  412. 

2  Ibid.,  I,  p.  220.  3  Ibid.,  II,  p.  413. 


170 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  gods  are  anthropomorphic1  beings,  possessing  the 
same  characteristics  which  they  had  while  living,  only  in  an 
intensified  degree,  they  can  be  flattered,  coaxed,  and 
cajoled  into  doing  what  no  amount  of  violent  and  abusive 
treatment  could  compel  them  to  do.  Attention  is,  therefore, 
directed  to  the  way  in  which  the  positive  method  works 
itself  out  and  to  the  results. 

It  would  seem  that  desire  on  the  part  of  the  weak 
to  propitiate  the  strong  is  to  be  traced  among  the  higher 
animals.  As  Spencer  says,  “On  the  approach  of  a  formi¬ 
dable  Newfoundland  or  mastiff,  a  small  spaniel  in  the 
extremity  of  its  terror  will  throw  itself  on  its  back  with 
legs  in  air.  Instead  of  threatening  resistance  by  growls 
and  showing  of  teeth,  as  it  might  have  done  had  not 
resistance  been  hopeless,  it  spontaneously  assumes  the 
attitude  that  would  result  from  its  defeat  in  battle;  tacitly 
saying,  ‘I  am  conquered  and  at  your  mercy.”’  2  The  efforts 
of  the  dog  at  propitiation  are  especially  shown  after  he  has 
come  to  regard  his  master  as  entertaining  towards  him 
feelings  not  unmixed  with  kindness.  When  beaten,  instead 
of  showing  retaliation  by  sinking  his  teeth  into  the  calf 
of  the  leg,  the  dog  will  lick  the  hand  of  his  master,  or 
put  up  a  paw,  clearly  manifesting  a  wish  to  conciliate  the 
one  possessed  of  the  power  to  work  him  further  ill. 

It  is  to  be  observed  from  the  foregoing  that  the  act  of 
propitiation  is  made  up  of  two  parts.  First,  there  is  a 
manifestation  of  submission  to  a  superior,  and  secondly, 

1  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution,”  pp.  60  and  260. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  pp.  3—4. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


171 


there  is  the  performance  of  some  act  implying  a  liking 
on  the  part  of  the  weak  for  the  strong,  and  indicating  a 
desire  to  please.  It  is  interesting  to  remark  that  in  dealings 
as  between  man  and  man,  these  two  elements  of  pro¬ 
pitiation  are  in  evidence.  The  slave  expresses  submission 
to  his  master,  and  the  subject  to  his  lord,  by  falling  on 
his  face,  putting  the  foot  of  the  chief  on  his  neck,  crawling 
on  all  fours,  and  by  raising  his  body  to  a  simple  kneeling 
position.1 

The  means  of  propitiating  the  gods  are  the  same  as 
those  used  for  getting  into  the  good  graces  of  the  mighty 
of  the  earth — the  manifestation  of  submission  on  the  part 
of  man,  the  exaltation  of  the  gods,  and  the  expression 
of  a  desire  of  man  to  render  himself  pleasing  in 
the  sight  of  the  deities  by  attitudes,  actions,  and  words 
signifying  attachment.  For  when  alive  the  gods  were 
pleased  by  such  a  display,  and  now  (though  they  are  in¬ 
visible  to  man,  man  is  not  invisible  to  them)  they  will 
be  pleased  as  gods  with  the  same  things  that  pleased  them 
on  earth  as  men. 

If,  for  example,  before  their  apotheosis  the  spirits  were 
gratified  by  applause  and  expressions  of  subordination 
rendered  them  by  their  servants,  the  divinities  are  still  sus¬ 
ceptible  to  the  same  flattery.  This  is  evidently  the  inter¬ 
pretation  to  be  placed  upon  the  actions  of  the  Amazulu, 
who,  according  to  Callaway,  praise  the  dead  in  order  to 
gain  favors  and  escape  punishment.2  In  all  religions  the 

1  Spencer  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  II,  pp.  117  ff. 

2  Callaway,  “Religious  Systems  of  the  Amazulu,”  pp.  145 — 147. 


172 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


prevailing  custom  is  to  preface  petitions  to  the  higher 
powers  with  propitiatory  utterances. 

This  form  of  propitiation  suggests  a  remedy  for 
sickness  to  which  resort  has  been  made  from  the  earliest 
to  the  latest  times,  and  often  with  startling  effects. 
That  is  prayer.  The  idea  in  this  connexion  is  to 
flatter  the  deity  by  expressions  of  submission  and  terms  of 
endearment,  in  order  if  possible  to  secure  his  assistance. 
Thus  among  the  Amazulu,  if  sickness  breaks  out  in  a 
village,  the  eldest  son  of  the  patient  will  offer  eulogies  to 
all  the  Amatongo,  especially  to  the  ancestral  spirit,  whom 
he  will  praise  with  the  epithets  of  honor  gained  by  that 
ancestor  in  battle.1  In  the  Book  of  Ecclesiasticus  this 
direction  is  given,  “My  son,  in  thy  sickness  be  not  negli¬ 
gent;  but  pray  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  make  thee 
whole.”  2  After  the  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era,  the 
practice  of  medicine  was  almost  exclusively  in  the  hands 
of  the  monks.  Their  cures  were  performed  by  holy  water, 
by  relics  of  the  martyrs,  and  by  prayers.3 

There  is  much  evidence  that  prayer  is  still  regarded,  and 
with  good  results,  as  mightily  potent  in  cases  of  sickness. 
As  one  of  many  examples  in  support  of  this  statement, 
attention  is  directed  to  the  devotion  of  worshippers 
at  the  shrine  of  Sainte  Anne  de  Beaupre,  near  the  city 
of  Quebec,  Canada.  It  is  said  that  many  years  ago,  a  small 
company  of  Breton  sailors,  during  a  violent  storm  at  sea, 
made  a  vow  to  Sainte  Anne  de  Beaupre  that  if  she  would 

1  Callaway,  “Religious  Systems  of  the  Amazulu,”  p.  145. 

2  Ecclesiasticus,  chapter  38,  v.  9. 

3  Sprengle,  “Histoire  de  la  Medicine,”  II,  p.  345. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


173 


save  them  from  the  waves,  they  would  build,  and  dedicate 
to  her  service,  a  chapel  on  the  spot  where  their  vessel 
touched  land.  They  were  delivered  and  kept  their  promise. 
About  1670,  a  relic  of  Sainte  Anne  was  brought  from 
Carcassonne.1  Monsignore  de  Laval,  of  the  cathedral  of 
Carcassonne,  asserts  that  this  relic  came  indeed  from 
a  finger  of  Sainte  Anne.2  Pilgrimages  are  made  throughout 
the  year  to  the  shrine,  the  sick  and  those  who  have  received 
benefits  going  by  trainloads  either  to  be  cured  or  to  give 
thanks,  and  the  words,  “Sainte  Anne,  Mere  de  la  Vierge- 
Marie,  priez  pour  nous,”  are  breathed  by  every  soul.3 
Often  the  sick  are  cured  in  absentia  in  answer  to  their  own 
prayers,  or  to  those  of  their  friends.  The  shrine  is  now 
in  charge  of  the  Redemptorist  Fathers,  who  issue  a  monthly 
publication,  “Annales  de  la  Bonne  Sainte  Anne  de 
Beaupre,”  in  which  the  various  cures  of  the  last  few 
months  are  recorded.  In  order  to  show  that  it  is  not 
necessary  to  go  to  the  old  world,  and  to  the  Middle  Ages, 
for  instances  of  cures  by  prayer,  quotations  are  here  made 
from  several  copies  of  the  “Annales”  of  a  comparatively 
recent  date. 

“Ironwood,  Mich.,  July  28  th.,  1911. —  For  nearly  two 
years  I  had  suffered  from  ataxia  and  the  doctors  had  pro¬ 
nounced  my  case  incurable.  But  on  my  first  visit  to  the  shrine, 
July  24th.,  I  was  partly  cured  and  left  one  crutch;  and  on 
July  25th.,  I  ceased  to  use  the  other.  Heartfelt  thanks  to  Ste. 
Anne.  Mrs.  A.  McMillen.” 

1  Waddle,  “Miracles  of  Healing,”  Am.  Jour,  of  Psych.,  XX,  pp. 

232 _ 253. 

2  Catholic  World,  XXXVI.,  p.  87. 

3  Waddle,  “Miracles  of  Healing,”  Am.  Jour.  Psych.,  XX,  pp. 

252—253. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


174 


“Fort  Wayne,  Ind.,  May  18th,  1912.  —  In  compliance  with 
a  promise,  I  hereby  state  that,  through  the  intercession  of  Ste. 
Anne,  I  was  greatly  benefited  and  have  practically  regained 
my  health  after  an  unfavorable  prognosis  by  all  my  professional 
colleagues.  I  hereby  give  you  permission  to  publish  the  above 
in  the  Annals.  Doctor  Geo.  J.  Studer.” 

“Halifax,  N.  S.,  June  4th.,  1912.  —  Eight  years  ago,  I  de¬ 
veloped  a  ‘varicose’  ulcer  just  above  my  left  ankle  through  a 
broken  vein.  I  was  treated  at  intervals  for  four  years  by  two 
doctors;  but  could  not  get  any  relief.  About  two  years  ago, 
they  told  me  they  could  do  no  more  for  me.  I  then  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  Ste.  Anne  de  Beaupre  and  promised, 
if  my  ankle  were  cured,  to  go  to  monthly  communion  for  the 
rest  of  my  life ;  to  make  another  pilgrimage,  even  if  I  were 
not  cured,  but  if  I  were  cured  to  make  a  pilgrimage  in 
thanksgiving.  After  coming  home,  I  put  aside  the  ointments 
of  the  doctor  and  used  nothing  but  Ste.  Anne  oil.  For  two 
months,  the  pain  in  my  ankle  was  intense  whenever  I  set  my 
feet  upon  the  floor.  Just  when  the  pain  was  almost  unbear¬ 
able  there  appeared  to  be  an  improvement  in  the  sore  and  it 
began  to  heal  steadily.  Just  a  month  before  I  made  my  second 
pilgrimage  the  cure  was  perfect.  Now,  out  of  gratitude  to 
Good  Ste.  Anne,  I  am  pleased  to  publish  my  cure,  and  inclose 
the  certificate  of  my  doctor.  Mrs.  E.  P.  Condon.”  “Halifax, 
N.  S.,  June  4th.,  1912.  —  This  is  to  certify  that,  in  July  and 
August  1909,  and  subsequently  at  intervals,  Mrs.  E.  P.  Condon 
was  under  my  care,  suffering  from  a  varicose  ulcer  situated 
just  above  the  left  ankle;  and  that  from  June  1911,  up  to  the 
present  date  a  healthy  scar  has  occupied  the  site  of  the  ulcer. 
J.  P.  Corston,  M.  D.” 

“Houston,  Texas,  March  22,  1913.  —  My  son  was  afflicted 
with  a  malady  that  affected  his  mind.  He  was  in  this 
condition  for  eighteen  months,  and  did  not  seem  to 
improve  under  medical  treatment.  I  made  a  promise  to 
Ste.  Anne  that,  if  he  was  cured,  I  would  publish  his  recovery 
in  the  Annals.  He  has  entirely  recovered  and  I  now  publish 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


175 


this  with  many  thanks  to  dear  Ste.  Anne.  Mrs.  Lama 
DeFrance  Fraser.” 

“Detroit,  Mich.,  Feb.  18th,  1913.  —  Last  October,  a  child  of 
nine  years  was  taken  down  with  typhoid,  was  sick  for  about  a 
month,  when  he  got  spinal  meningitis.  For  eighteen  days  he  was 
unconscious,  received  the  rites  of  the  Church,  and  the  priest 
prayed  over  him.  The  doctors  had  given  him  up,  and  had 
said  that  nothing  could  save  him  but  a  miracle.  For  a  week 
he  lay  like  a  hoop,  head  and  heels  meeting;  he  moaned  and 
groaned  so  that  passers-by  were  attracted.  We  ail  prayed 
to  Ste.  Anne  for  him ;  he  held  the  little  statue  in  his  hand, 
and  the  little  rosary  of  Ste.  Anne  around  his  wrist  like  a 
bracelet,  when  we  did  not  pray  on  it  for  him.  He  also  had  the 
little  paper  pictures  of  Ste.  Anne  put  on  him,  and  the  spring 
water  of  Ste.  Anne  was  used.  The  doctors  said  he  would 
lose  his  hearing  and  sight  and  perhaps  his  mind,  if  he  ever 
should  get  over  it.  But  now  we  are  happy  to  say  that  Ste. 
Anne  has  made  him  well.  He  is  just  as  he  used  to  be.  His 
hearing,  mind,  and  sight  are  just  as  good  as  ever.  We  are 
very  thankful  to  Good  Ste.  Anne.  Miss  Theresa  Gebhard.” 

In  former  times,  many  cures  as  results  of  prayer  were 
thought  to  be  miraculous  because  the  laws  under  which 
they  were  effected  were  not  well  understood.  Science 
now  explains  such  recoveries  from  sickness  not  by  inter¬ 
vention  of  spirits,  but  by  reflex  action  according  to  the 
law  of  suggestion.1 

Since  the  divinities  are  conceived  to  be  as  sensitive  as 
the  living  to  cold,  hunger,  thirst,  and  pain,  it  is  supposed  that 
they  can  be  propitiated  by  gifts  of  food,  drink,  clothing, 
and  similar  gifts.  Turner  writes  that ;  among  the  New 
Caledonians  a  chief  says  to  the  ghosts  of  his  fathers, 
“Compassionate  fathers!  here  is  some  food  for  you;  eat  it; 

1  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  413. 


176 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


be  kind  to  us  on  account  of  it.” 1  The  Veddah  says  to  a 
deceased  relative,  as  the  food  offering  is  presented,  “Come 
and  partake  of  this.  Give  us  maintenance  as  you  did 
when  living.” 2  Shooter  says  that  the  Kaffirs  attribute 
every  unlucky  event  to  the  ghost  of  a  dead  person,  and1 
slay  an  animal  to  gain  his  favor.3  Among  the  Karens,  when 
a  person  is  ill,  the  medicine  man,  if  he  is  well  paid, 
will  tell  what  spirit  has  produced  the  sickness,  and  by  what 
offering  it  is  to  be  propitiated.4,  The  Yakuts  believe  that  all 
diseases  are  due  to  spirit  possession.  Methods  of  cure 
consist  in  propitiating  or  exorcising  the  uninvited  guest.5 

When  the  supernatural  being  becomes  more  developed 
in  human  thought,  both  the  gifts  and  the  motives  for 
offering  them  become  more  worthy  of  respect.  The  gifts 
and  the  motives  are  the  same,  but  the  name  of  the  gifts  is 
changed  to  oblation.  The  reason  for  presenting  oblations 
to  the  divinities  is  shown  in  an  old  Greek  Proverb  which 
says,  “Gifts  determine  the  acts  of  gods  and  kings.”6 
When  the  ideas  of  men  concerning  the  deity  become 
more  exalted,  offerings,  which  before  were  propitiatory 
from  their  intrinsic  value,  are  regarded  as  making  the 
giver  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  heaven  because  they  imply 
loyalty  and  obedience. 

In  order  to  understand  the  employment  of  the  positive 

method  of  the  shaman  in  his  capacity  of  healer,  it  is 

1  Turner,  “Nineteen  Years  in  Polynesia,”  p-  88. 

2  Transactions  of  the  Ethnological  Society,  New  Series,  II,  p.  302. 

3  Shooter, “  The  Kaffirs  of  Natal  and  the  Zulu  Country,”  pp.163—164. 

4  Mason,  J.  A.  Soc.  Bengal,  XXXIV,  p.  230. 

5  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  L,  XXXI,  p.  105. 

6  Guhl  and  Koner,  “Life  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,”  p.  283. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


177 


necessary  to  keep  constantly  in  mind  the  anthropomorphic 
conception  of  the  savage  regarding  the  divinities — that 
they  have  the  same  likes  and  dislikes,  wants,  needs, 
pleasures,  disappointments  as  when  in  the  body,  and  are 
therefore  to  be  flattered,  bribed,  coaxed,  in  the  same  way 
as  before  their  deification.  In  Tartary,  for  example,  illness 
is  believed  to  be  due  to  the  visitation  of  a  tchutgour,  or 
daimon.  If  the  sick  man  is  poor,  it  is  evident  that  the 
tchutgour  visiting  him  is  an  inferior  tchutgour ,  and  re¬ 
quires  nothing  but  a  short,  extemporaneous  prayer,  or  at 
most  an  interjectional  exorcism.  If  the  sick  person  is 
very  poor,  the  lama  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  case, 
but  advises  the  friends  to  possess  themselves  in  patience 
until  the  patient  improves  or  dies,  according  to  the  decrees 
of  the  gods.  But  if  the  sick  man  is  rich,  the  lama  takes 
more  notice  of  his  misfortune.  Since  it  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  a  daimon  who  would  deign  to  visit 
a  person  of  such  consequence  must  be  a  powerful  daimon, 
it  would  not  be  becoming  for  a  great  tchutgour  to  travel 
like  an  inferior  daimon.  The  friends  of  the  patient,  accord¬ 
ingly,  must  prepare  for  the  tchutgour  many  fine  clothes, 
and,  in  case  of  extreme  riches,  many  fine  horses,  for  the 
daimon  may  be  a  very  great  prince,  attended  by  a  retinue 
of  courtiers,  all  of  whom  must  be  provided  with  means  of 
conveyance.1  The  daimon  here  is  evidently  thought  to  be 
bribed  by  offerings,  which,  consisting  of  clothing  and 
horses,  of  course  materially  benefit  the  lama ,  but  the  spirits 
of  which,  he  persuades  the  patient  and  his  friends,  are 

1  Hue,  “Travels  in  Tartary,”  I.  chapter  3. 


13 


178 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


required  by  the  daimon  as  the  price  of  the  recovery  of 
the  sick  man. 

The  gods  are  propitiated,  likewise,  by  offerings  of 
food,  the  spirit  of  which,  the  savage  thinks,  contributes  to 
the  sustenance  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  unseen  world. 
Thus  among  the  Tahitians,  if  a  man  is  taken  violently  ill, 
the  fruits  of  entire  plantain  fields  or  over  one  hundred 
pigs,  are  taken  to  the  medicine  man;  it  frequently  happens 
that  human  victims  are  presented  to  the  idol  in  the  hope  that 
the  sight  of  them  might  appease  his  anger.1  Among  the 
Northern  Chins,  a  sick  man,  believing  his  bad  luck  due 
to  the  agency  of  an  angry  deity,  offers  a  young  fowl  or 
small  dog  in  sacrifice.  If  he  recovers,  it  is  a  sign  that  the 
divinities  are  propitiated.2  In  Lhen-chow,  in  the  province 
of  Kwang-si,  China,  if  a  man  stumbles  over  a  stone,  and 
afterwards  is  taken  ill,  his  sickness  is  believed  to  be 
due  to  the  fact  that  there  was  a  daimon  in  the  stone.  His 
friends,  therefore,  go  to  the  spot  where  the  misfortune 
took  place,  and  make  an  effort  to  propitiate  the  daimon  by 
offerings  of  rice,  wine,  incense,  and  worship.  Then  it  is 
thought  that  the  sick  man  will  get  well.3  The  offerings 
made  for  propitiating  the  gods,  it  is  here  repeated,  con¬ 
tribute  to  the  maintenance  of  the  sacerdotal  class ;  as,  for 
example,  among  the  Koskis,  the  priest,  to  appease  the 
angry  divinity  who  has  made  some  person  sick,  takes  per¬ 
haps  a  fowl,  which  he  tells  the  people  the  deity  requires, 
and  pours  out  its  blood  on  the  ground  as  an  offering. 

1  Farrer,  “Primitive  Manners  and  Customs,”  p.  61. 

2  Hutchinson,  “Living  Races  of  Mankind,”  I,  p.  114. 

3  Dennys,  “Folklore  of  China,”  p.  96. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


179 


Then  he  proceeds  to  roast  and  eat  the  fowl,  and,  after 
throwing  away  the  bones,  goes  back  to  his  home.1 

The  following  instances,  among  many  others,  illustrate 
the  fact  that  when  man  comes  to  regard  the  gods  as  bene¬ 
ficent  beings,  the  method  of  the  medicine  man  of  dealing 
with  them  changes  from  compulsion  to  propitiation.  Ac¬ 
cording  to  Bancroft,  the  Nootka  Sound  People  think  that 
pains  and  maladies  are  due  to  the  absence  or  irregular 
conduct  of  the  soul  (which  must  be  recalled  by  the  arts  of  the 
medicine  man),  or  to  the  malignance  of  spirits,  which  must 
be  placated.2  The  Dyaks  of  Borneo  believe  that  every 
sort  of  trouble  is  caused  by  spirits;  their  entire  medical 
science  consequently  consists  of  a  knowledge  of  charms, 
which  may  avert  evil,  and  of  a  knowledge  of  the  offering 
of  sacrifices,  which  may  appease  the  wrath  of  the  spirit 
that  has  caused  the  harm.3  McCullock  writes  of  the  Kon- 
pooee,  “‘Whilst  the  Konpooee  enjoys  good  health,  he  has 
little  anxiety,  but  if  struck  by  sickness  for  any  length 
of  time,  the  chances  are  he  is  ruined.  To  medicine  he 
does  not  look  for  a  cure  of  disease,  but  to  sacrifices 
offered  as  directed  by  the  priests  to  certain  deities.  All 
his  goods  and  chattels  may  be  expended  unavailingly, 
and  when  nothing  more  is  left  for  the  inexorable  gods, 
I  have  seen  wives  and  children  sold  as  slaves  to  provide 

means  of  propitiating  the  deities.’”4 

1  J.  As.  Soc.  Bengal,  XXIV,  p.  631. 

2  Bancroft,  “The  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States  of  North 
America/’  I,  p.  204. 

3  Tylor,  Art.  “Demonology,”  Encyc.  Brit.,  Ninth  Edition,  IV,  p.  58. 

4  McCullock,  “Selections  from  the  Records  of  the  Government  of 
India,”  p.  87.  Quoted  by  Spencer  in  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III, 
p.  470. 

13* 


180 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Among  all  primitive  peoples,  the  most  unfailing  means 
of  securing  the  favor  of  the  gods,  or  of  appeasing  them 
when  angry,  is  thought  to  be  the  offering  of  blood. 
Here,  too,  it  is  impossible  to  understand  the  original 
motive  for  this  practice  unless  the  anthropomorphic  con¬ 
ception  of  the  savage  concerning  the  divinities  be  borne  in 
mind.  If  the  deities  relished  the  taste  of  blood  when  living, 
they  have  not  changed  since  their  apotheosis.  Burton  says 
that  the  blood  offerings  which  the  inhabitants  of  Dahomey 
present  to  the  dead  are  drink  for  the  deceased.1  Odysseus 
describes  the  ghosts  in  the  Greek  Hades  as  drinking  the 
sacrificial  blood  which  he  offers  them,  and  as  being  rein¬ 
vigorated  by  it.2  Among  the  ancient  Mexicans,  the  ruling 
houses  descended  from  conquering  cannibals.  Their  gods 
were  cannibals.  Their  idols  were  fed  with  human  hearts. 
When  the  priests  represented  to  the  kings  that  the  idols 
were  starving,  war  was  waged,  prisoners  taken,  “because 
the  gods  demanded  something  to  eat,”  and  for  that  reason 
many  human  lives  were  sacrificed  every  year.3  Herrera 
says  further  that  the  coast-people  of  Peru  offered  blood  to 
idols,  and  that  the  Indians  gave  the  idols  blood  to  drink, 
while  the  priests  and  dignified  persons  abstracted  blood 
from  their  legs  and  smeared  it  on  their  temples.4 

If  the  gods  are  pleased  at  the  sight  of  blood,  why  not, 
when  divine  wrath  is  indicated  by  sickness,  make  an  offer¬ 
ing  of  that  precious  fluid  to  appease  the  dreaded  ghosts, 

1  Barton,  “Mission  to  Gelele  King  of  Dahomey,”  II,  p.  164. 

2  “Odyssey,”  Book  XI,  line  35  ff. 

3  Herrera,  “General  History  of  the  Continent  and  Isles  of 
America,”  III,  p.  207. 

4  Ibid.,  pp.  210-213. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


181 


or  to  enlist  their  aid  in  thwarting  the  malicious  attacks  of 
the  spirits  of  darkness?  This  is  precisely  what  man  in  the 
state  of  savagery  often  does.  For  it  is  said  that  in  British 
Nigeria,  if  misfortune  or  disease  fall  upon  the  people,  their 
chief  divinity  must  be  conciliated  by  a  sacrifice  of  slaves.1 
A  woman  living  in  the  Madras  Presidency  was  barren.  This 
was  said  to  be  due  to  daimon  possession.  Her  father 
consulted  an  exorciser,  who  declared  a  human  sacrifice 
necessary.  One  night  her  father,  the  exorcist,  and  six 
companions  met  at  an  appointed  place,  and  after  religious 
exercises  sent  for  the  victim.  Without  suspecting  any 
danger  he  came,  and  was  given  so  much  alcoholic  drink 
that  he  became  intoxicated.  His  head  was  then  cut  off, 
and  his  blood  mingled  with  rice  was  offered  to  the  gods 
as  a  sacrifice.2 

It  is  not  necessary  that  an  individual  be  killed  in  order 
to  obtain  blood  to  offer  to  the  spirits.  Sometimes  the  skin 
of  the  head  is  cut  with  the  shell  of  a  snail,  and  the  blood 
caught  in  rags  and  laid  beside  a  corpse  as  a  substitute  for 
a  victim.  The  ears  and  shoulders  are  sometimes  pierced, 
and  the  blood  gathered  with  a  sponge,  and  squeezed  out 
above  a  sacrificial  vessel.  The  Aztecs  used  to  sprinkle 
their  altars  with  blood  drawn  from  their  own  bodies. 
The  Inca-Peruvians  bled  young  boys,  and  mixed  the 
blood  with  bread.  Where  such  blood-bread  left  a 
mark  behind,  there  was  thought  to  be  protection  from  the 
spirits.3 

1  Mockler-Ferryman,  “British  Nigeria,”  p.  259. 

2  Strack,  “The  Jew  and  Human  Sacrifice,”  p.  422. 

3  Lippert,  “  Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  328. 


182 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


The  special  method  of  blood-letting  in  various  local¬ 
ities,  especially  in  Polynesia,  Africa,  and  Central  America, 
has  led  in  one  place  to  circumcision,  in  another  to 
lopping,  or  piercing  the  ears,  and  in  a  third,  to  maiming  the 
fingers  by  removing  one  or  two  joints.1  In  the  Tonga 
Islands,  the  natives,  in  case  of  illness,  cut  off  a  portion 
of  the  little  finger  with  a  view  to  recovery.2 

The  case  of  ear-boring,  referred  to  above,  is  interest¬ 
ing.  In  the  house  of  the  Incas  all  children  had  to  pass 
through  a  ceremony  before  they  were  really  sons  of  the 
Incas.  Along  with  the  usual  fasting  a  sort  of  test  of 
ability  to  carry  arms  was  made ;  then  the  king  pierced  the 
ears  of  those  who  were  found  Worthy.3  As  an  initiation 
into  life  and  arm-bearing,  the  Mohammedans  observe 
the  practice  of  baptism,  cutting  of  the  hair,  and 
ear-boring,  or  circumcision  in  the  narrow  sense.4 
Nearly  all  the  forms  that  distinguish  the  real  Arab  are 
to  be  found  among  the  Jews.  Among  the  latter,  how¬ 
ever,  circumcision  is  used  to  mark  officially  the  compact 
with  the  state  god,  while  ear-boring  has  fallen  to  the  use 
of  binding  the  slave  to  his  master.  The  Jewish  servant, 
if  he  was  to  belong  to  the  house  forever,  was  bound  over 
to  the  household  gods  by  means  of  ear-boring,  and,  there¬ 
fore,  by  blood-sacrifice.5  That  was  the  older  law.  The 
newer  law,  in  repeating  the  same  reference,  has  weeded  out 

all  connexion  with  religious  ceremonial,  has  even  left  out 

1  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  329. 

2  Mariner,  “Account  of  the  Natives  of  the  Tonga  Islands,”  II,  p.222. 

3  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  343. 

4  Ibid.,  II,  p.  345. 

5  Exodus,  21 :  6. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


183 


mention  of  the  household  gods,  and  has  given  the  ear-pierc¬ 
ing  the  significance  of  symbolically  fastening  the  servant 
to  the  house:  “Take  an  awl,  and  stick  it  into  his  ear,  and 
into  the  door:  then  he  is  thy  servant  forever.”  1  Here  it  is 
evident  that  ear-piercing  was  still  used  as  a  sign  of  com¬ 
pact.2  The  old  religious  compact,  with  the  sign  of  the  ear¬ 
boring,  survived  in  Christianity,  despite  the  efforts  of  some 
of  the  Church  Fathers  against  the  introduction  of  heathen 
customs  into  its  system.  Even  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
people  were  accustomed,  for  certain  illnesses,  to  make  vows 
to  a  saint,  and,  as  a  sign  of  their  vows,  to  wear  an  ear^ 
ring.3  Before  the  custom  entirely  disappeared,  it  was 
rationalized.  Then  it  came  to  be  believed  that  piercing  the 
ear  was  a  remedy  for  trouble  with  the  eyes.4  This  remedy 
for  eye-trouble  has  been  resorted  to  within  the  memory  of 
persons  living  at  the  present  time.  These  good  people  are 
not  aware,  however,  that  it  had  its  beginning  in  the  efforts 
of  the  medicine  man  to  propitiate  disease  daimons  by 
means  of  blood-letting. 

Pliny  says  that  the  hippopotamus,  having  become  fat 
and  unwieldy  through  over-eating,  bled  himself  with  a 
sharp-pointed  reed,  and  when  he  had  abstracted  sufficient 
blood,  closed  the  wound  with  clay.  Men,  he  asserts,  have 
imitated  the  operation,5  and  hence  the  origin  of  the  practice 
of  venesection.  How  much  more  simple,  satisfactory,  and 
credible  an  explanation  of  the  beginning  of  this 
expedient  is  made  by  referring  it  to  the  blind  efforts  of  the 

1  Deuteronomy,  15  : 17. 

2  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  345.  3  Ibid.  II,  p.346.  4  Ibid. 

5  Pliny,  “Natural  History,”  B.  VIII,  C.  26. 


184 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


medicine  man  in  casting  about  for  sacrifices  with  which 
to  appease  the  angry  spirits!  Not  to  any  medical  beast 
story,  but  to  childish  notions  of  the  shaman  as  to  the 
cause  of  disease  and  the  proper  means  of  cure  is  to  be 
traced  the  initiation  of  venesection — the  panacea  of  the 
seventeenth  century  physician,  and  the  well-recognized 
therapeutic  agent  in  the  practice  of  the  medical  profession 
of  the  present  time.  All  animal  stories  purporting  to  account 
for  the  origin  of  treatment  of  sickness  are  to  be  relegated 
to  the  realm  of  fable  and  myth,  rather  than  regarded  as 
affording  a  basis  for  scientific  explanation. 

A  more  rational  ground  for  blood-letting  followed 
the  first  rude  experience.  In  the  course  of  evolution,  some 
individual  with  more  intelligence  than  his  companions 
observed  that  the  abstraction  of  blood  was  often  followed 
by  beneficial  results.  He  applied  it  in  certain  cases.  His 
action  was  imitated.  The  practice  was  transmitted  to 
later  generations,  and,  therefore,  instances  are  on  record  in 
which  savages  and  barbaric  peoples  resorted  to  blood¬ 
letting  for  well-defined  reasons.1  The  Omahas,  for 
example,  who  advocated  bleeding  in  treating  disease,  used 
flint  knives  with  which  to  gash  the  flesh  between  the 
eyebrows.2  “The  Apache  scouts  when  tired  were  in  the 
habit,”  Bourke  writes,  “of  sitting  down  and  lashing  their 
legs  with  branches  of  nettles  until  the  blood  flowed. 
This,  according  to  their  belief,  relieved  exhaustion.”  3  (It 
is  interesting  to  note  in  passing  that  a  form  of  transfusion 

1  Lippert,  “  Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  327. 

2  Fletcher-Laflesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p.  582. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  471. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


185 


of  blood  was  known  more  than  three  centuries  ago.  “In 
the  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth,”  says  Southey,  “there  was  a 
new  invention  whereof  some  princes  had  very  great 
esteem,  and  used  it  for  to  remain  thereby  in  this  force,  and, 
as  they  thought,  to  live  long.  They  chose  a  strong  young 
man  of  twenty-five,  dieted  him  for  a  month  on  the  best 
of  meats,  wines,  and  spices,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month 
they  bled  him  in  both  arms  as  much  as  he  could  tolerate 
and  abide.  They  added  a  handful  of  salt  to  six  pounds 
of  this  blood,  and  distilled  it  seven  times,  pouring  water 
upon  the  residuum  after  every  distillation.  An  ounce  of 
this  was  to  be  taken  three  or  four  times  a  year.  As 
the  life  was  thought  to  be  in  the  blood,  it  was  believed 
that  it  could  be  thus  transferred”),1  In  cases  of  dropsy, 
it  is  said  that  Asclepiades  practiced  scarification  of  the 
ankles.2  Hippocrates  is  reputed  to  have  been  the  first 
medical  writer  to  speak  of  bleeding.  He  advised  that  blood 
be  abstracted  from  the  arm,  from  the  temporal  vessels, 
from  the  leg,  and  from  other  parts  of  the  body  in  some 
instances  to  the  point  of  fainting.3  Among  the  nature 
people  of  the  River  Darling,  New  South  Wales,  the  very 
sick  and  weak  patients  are  fed  upon  blood  abstracted  from 
the  bodies  of  their  male  friends.  As  a  general  thing  it  is 
taken  as  soon  as  it  is  drawn.  But  sometimes  hot  ashes 
are  put  into  the  blood,  thus  cooking  it  to  a  slight  extent.1 
Granted  that  this  practice  is  disgusting,  it  is  scarcely  more 
so  than  that  of  nineteenth  century  physicians  who  pre- 

1  Southey, “The Doctor,” p. 59.  2  Baas,  “History  of  Medicine,” p.  137. 

3  Le  Clerc,  “Histoire  de  la  Medicine,”  Part  I,  Book  1,  Chap.  18. 

4  J.  A.  I.,  1884,  p.  132. 


186 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


scribed  fresh  animal  blood  for  tubercular  and  anemic 
patients. 

The  striking  thing  about  sacrificial  blood-letting  is 
that  the  medicine  man,  in  his  efforts  to  propitiate  the  angry 
spirits  by  offering  up  the  blood  of  the  patient,  uncon¬ 
sciously  initiated  a  therapeutic  agency  which  has  never 
been  abandoned — that  of  venesection.  In  the  seventeenth 
and  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  centuries,  it  was  applied 
in  every  form  of  sickness.  In  cases  of  over-indulgence,  the 
strong  and  healthy  resorted  to  it  for  relief  with  much  the 
same  freedom  and  confidence  as  in  these  days  they  resort 
to  epsom  salts.  During  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
however,  there  was  a  reaction  against  the  excessive  use 
of  blood-letting,  and  the  practice  to  a  great  extent  was 
discontinued.  Within  the  last  few  years  there  has  been 
a  revival  in  its  favor.1  Among  its  generally  recognized 
advantages,  it  may  be  noted  that  venesection  “acts  by 
diminishing  the  force  of  the  action  of  the  heart,  and  by 
diminishing  the  quantity  of  blood  in  the  body.  It  is  useful 
in  cases  of  pneumonia,  where  from  the  amount  of  lung 
inflamed  there  is  great  impediment  to  the  flow  of  blood, 
and  the  veins  of  the  head  and  neck  become  turgid  from 
over-distress  of  the  right  cavities  of  the  heart.  It  is  useful 
in  apoplexy  where  the  veins  are  distended,  or  where  there 
is  a  full,  hard  pulse.  Local  blood-letting  is  seldom  wrong 
in  inflammation  of  external  parts,  or  of  the  pleura,  or 
peritoneum.”  2  Another  authority  states  that,  “during  the 
first  years  of  this  century,  Roux  demonstrated  that  the 

1  New  Sydenham  Society  Lexicon  of  Medicine,  Art.,  “Blood¬ 
letting.”  2  Ibid. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


187 


abstraction  of  blood  from  animals  produced  a  rapid 
formation  and  increase  of  antitoxins,  and  where  a  condition 
existed  that  caused  a  decline  of  these  bodies,  bleeding 
at  once  checked”  [this  decline],  “and  there  followed 
a  re-formation”  [of  antitoxins].  “A  few  years  later, 
Schroder  of  Copenhagen  published  observations  on 
typhoid  and  allied  fevers  in  man,  showing  that 
bleeding  up  to  twenty  ounces  also  here  increased 
the  specific  agglutinating  properties  of  serum,  and, 
as  in  animals,  under  certain  conditions  where  the  agglutin¬ 
ating  properties  had  begun  to  decline,  blood-letting  checked 
such  a  decline  and  produced  a  marked  increase  in  this 
power.” 1  It  is  remarkable,  indeed,  that  a  therapeutic 
measure,  employed  with  beneficial  results  by  twentieth 
century  physicians,  should  have  had  its  origin  in  cultural 
blood-letting.  Good  out  of  evil !  Saul  among  the  prophets, 
and  Herbert  Spencer  among  the  mystics  !  And  this  despite 
the  teachings  of  Zeno. 

So  much  for  the  method  of  propitiation.  As  to  the 
negative  method  of  the  medicine  man,  perhaps  the  best 
way  of  approach  is  by  the  imagination.  Putting  oneself  in 
the  place  of  the  savage,  and  thinking  his  thoughts,  how 
evident  it  is  to  one  that,  since  the  entrance  of  malicious 
spirits  into  the  body  of  the  patient  is  the  cause  of  sickness, 
expulsion  of  those  spirits  is  the  only  remedy!  Exorcism 
is,  therefore,  a  part  of  the  stock  in  trade  of  the  medicine 
man,  and,  among  the  Goras  of  Northwestern  India,  any 
person  can  become  a  medicine  man  who  will  learn  the 

1  Reference  Handbook  of  Medical  Sciences,  II,  p.  199. 


188 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


formulas  which  compel  the  daimons  to  obey.1  Of  the 
Mishmis  it  is  said  that  when  a  man  is  sick  a  priest 
is  summoned  to  banish  the  evil  spirit.2  Miss  Kingsley 
says  that  sickness  and  death  in  West  Africa  are  believed  to 
be  caused  by  the  body-soul  of  a  deceased  person  before 
it  has  taken  its  final  departure  for  dead-land,  or  by  various 
agencies,  differing  according  to  the  locality.  But  of  ail 
the  spirits  the  “sisa”  is  perhaps  the  most  annoying. 
Sometimes  it  wanders  about,  and,  taking  advantage  of  an 
open  mouth  and  the  absence  of  a  “kra”  or  dream-soul,  enters 
into  a  person  and  causes  rheumatism,  colic,  or  other  painful 
ailments.  The  medicine  man  has  to  be  summoned  at  once 
to  get  it  out.  The  methods  employed  to  meet  this  are 
characteristic  of  men  incapable  of  the  most  advanced  think¬ 
ing.  All  the  people  in  the  village,  particularly  babies  and 
old  people — persons  whose  souls  are  delicate — must  be 
kept  away  during  the  operation,  having  a  piece  of  cloth 
over  the  nose  and  mouth,  and  everyone  must  be  howling  so 
as  to  scare  the  “sisa”  off  them  if  by  any  chance  it  should 
escape  from  the  witch  doctor.  An  efficient  practitioner 
thinks  it  a  disgrace  to  allow  a  “sisa”  to  get  away  from  him ; 
such  an  accident  would  be  a  blow  to  his  practice,  for  the 
people  would  not  care  to  call  a  man  who  could  allow  this  to 
happen.3  The  Chippeways,  in  treating  disease,  concerned 
themselves  more  about  the  spells  they  used  to  banish  the 
spirits  than  about  the  remedies  they  applied.4  Among  the 

1  Dalton,  “Ethnology  of  Bengal,”  p.  60. 

2  Rowlatt,  “  Mishmis,”  Journal  of  As.  Soc.  Bengal,  XIV,  Part.  2,  p.487. 

3  Kingsley,  “West  African  Studies,”  p.  172. 

4  Keating,  “Expedition  to  the  Source  of  St.  Peter’s  River,” II,  p.  158. 


CH.  VI 


189 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


New  Zealanders,  when  any  person  falls  ill,  the  medicine 
man  resorts  to  incantations,  either  to  propitiate  the  angry 
spirit  or,  through  threats  and  abuse,  to  drive  it  away.1 
The  native  doctors  of  the  Visayans,  with  whom  the  author 
became  acquainted  while  living  in  the  Philippine  Islands, 
used  to  place  a  light  under  the  nipa  house  in  which  a 
child  was  being  born  for  the  purpose,  as  they  averred,  of 
frightning  away  the  “asuangs”  [spirits]  which  otherwise 
would  devour  the  infant  as  soon  as  it  was  delivered. 

One  method  of  exorcism  is  that  of  causing  the 
body  of  the  patient  to  become  such  a  disagreeable 
habitat  that  the  disease  spirit  will  not  remain  in 
it.  In  some  instances  this  is  accomplished  in  a 
very  heroic  manner.  The  natives  of  Sumatra,  for  example, 
try  to  banish  the  daimon  from  an  insane  person 
by  putting  the  patient  into  a  hut  and  setting  fire  to  the 
building,  leaving  the  wretch  to  escape  if  he  can.2  The  sick 
person,  among  various  savage  tribes,  is  fumigated,  made  to 
swallow  horrible  things,  drenched  with  foul  concoctions 
which  only  the  savage  imagination  could  conceive — all  for 
the  distinct  purpose  of  disgusting  the  unseen  intruder. 

The  savage  doctor  often  tries  to  expel  the  evil  spirit 
by  physical  force.  Among  the  Columbian  Indians,  he 
attempts  to  compel  the  disease  daimon  to  leave  a  patient 
by  pressing  his  clenched  fists  with  all  his  might  in  the 
pit  of  the  stomach  of  the  unfortunate  man.3  Many 

1  Lubbock,  “Origin  of  Civilization,”  p.  132. 

2  Marsden,  “History  of  Sumatra,”  p.  191. 

3  Bancroft,  “Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States  of  North 
America,”  I,  p.  286. 


190 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


innocent  old  men  and  old  women  of  the  Tagalog  people, 
Philippine  Islands,  when  thought  to  be  possessed  by 
vicious  spirits,  are  known  to  have  been  cruelly  beaten  and 
otherwise  maltreated  because  the  pagan  shamans  believed 
that  in  this  maner  the  daimons  could  be  exorcised.  Herrera 
writes  of  the  Indians  ofCumana,  “If  the  disease  increased,” 
[the  medicine  men]  “said  the  patient  was  possessed  with 
spirits,  stroked  the  body  all  over,  used  words  of  enchant¬ 
ment,  licked  some  joints,  and  sucked,  saying  they  drew  out 
the  spirit;  took  a  twig  of  a  certain  root,  the  virtue 
whereof  none  but  the  physicians  knew,  tickled  their  own 
throats  with  it  till  they  vomited,  and  bled,  sighed,  roared, 
quaked,  stamped,  made  a  thousand  faces,  sweated  for  two 
hours,  and  at  last  brought  up  a  sort  of  thick  phlegm,  with 
a  little  hard  black  ball  in  the  middle  of  it,  which  the  re¬ 
lations  of  the  sick  person  carried  to  the  field,  saying  — 
‘Go  thy  way,  Devil/”  1 

The  medicine  men  of  the  Algonkin,  the  Ojib- 
ways,  the  Sioux,  and  other  Indian  tribes  had  a 
method  of  exorcism  known  as  the  sucking  method. 
They  sucked  that  part  of  the  body  where  the  pain  was 
most  intense,  thinking  by  so  doing  to  extract  the  daimon. 
Among  the  Florida  Indians,  the  shamans  sucked  and 
blew  on  the  sick  man,  and  put  hot  stones  on  his  abdomen 
to  remove  the  pain.  The  medicine  men  of  the  Navaho  and 
Chippeway  Indians  had  a  bony  tube  similar  to  a  stetho¬ 
scope,  which  they  placed  over  the  diseased  spot  and  sucked 
in  order  to  give  relief.2  In  Australia,  says  Howitt, 

1  Herrera,  “General  History  of  the  Continent  and  Islands  of 
America,”  III,  p.  310.  2  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  270. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


191 


“cures  are  effected  by  sucking  the  afflicted  part  and 
exhibiting,  as  having  been  extracted  therefrom,  some 
foreign  body  which  has  caused  the  ill,  or  by  sucking 
the  place,  and  expelling  the  evil  influence,  or  by 
various  manipulations,  pinchings,  squeezings,  to  allay 
the  pain.  In  some  cases  the  ‘poison/  as  they  call 
it  now,  is  supposed  to  be  extracted  through  a  string,  or 
a  stick,  from  the  patient  to  the  doctor,  who  spits  it  out 
in  the  form  of  blood.” 1  Howitt  likewise  speaks  of  the 
Kernai  and  relates  that  one  of  these,  being  ill,  con¬ 
sulted  a  Murring  doctor,  who,  after  manipulating  the 
patient,  sucked  the  afflicted  place,  and  exhibited  a 
quartz  crystal  as  being  the  cause  of  the  illness.  He 
also  told  the  patient  that  it  had  been  thrown  at  him  by 
another  Murring  doctor.  The  man  got  well,  and  the 
reputation  of  the  medicine  man  was  greater  than  ever.  2 
Bourke  says  that  the  Apache  shaman,  in  the  case  of  deep- 
seated  pains,  sucked  the  place  affected,  putting  so  much 
energy  into  his  work  that  he  raised  blisters.3  Among 
the  California  Indians,  the  medicine  men  had  a  tube  called 
the  “chacuaco,”  made  from  a  very  hard,  black  stone,  which 
they  used  in  sucking  such  parts  of  the  body  of  the  patient 
as  were  subject  to  great  pain.4  The  medicine  man  of  the 
Shingu  Indians  wafts  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  over  his 
patient,  and  kneads  him  vigorously,  groaning  meanwhile  as 
if  he  were  his  own  victim,  although  the  sick  man 

1  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  39 

2  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  57. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  471 

4  Venigas,  “History  of  California,”  I,  p.  126. 


192 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


remains  quiet.  After  resorting  to  suction,  he  appears 
to  spit  out  the  source  of  the  trouble.1 

To  modern  man  both  the  ghost  theory  of  disease  and 
suction  as  a  means  of  exorcism  are  alike  absurd.  But  the 
therapeutical  expedient  so  much  in  vogue  today,  especially 
in  country  districts,  known  as  “cupping, ”  had  its  beginning 
in  the  sucking  method  of  the  medicine  man.  In  Alaska, 
the  native  doctor  used  for  a  sucking  instrument  the  bone 
of  the  wing  of  an  eagle.  The  transition  from  sucking  with 
the  mouth  to  a  real  cupping  instrument  is  here  seen.2  By 
use  of  a  cupping  glass  in  the  case  of  a  boil,  for  example, 
the  blood  is  drawn  to  the  surface  of  the  body  where  the 
boil  is  located.  The  phagocytes  combat  and  destroy  the 
cocci  bacilli  that  have  gained  access  to  the  tissue  spaces, 
and  the  patient  is  relieved.  What  is  of  interest  here  is  the 
fact  that  the  procedure  of  cupping,  which  is  today  recog¬ 
nized  as  a  scientific  measure,  was  discovered  unwittingly 
and  unawares  by  the  medicine  man,  whose  intention  was 
not  to  bring  blood  to  the  periphery,  but  to  abstract  an  evil 
spirit.3  In  many  cases  he,  of  necessity,  succeeded  in 
effecting  a  cure.  As  Bartels  says,  “At  bottom  the  idea 
of  this  procedure  [suctionj  was  to  draw  out  the  evil  spirit 
that  was  responsible  for  the  disease  or  pain,  but  this 
process  really  worked  as  dry  cupping  and  in  some  cases 
was  beneficial/7  4  The  method  was  passed  on  to  succeeding 
generations  until  at  length  the  principles  of  scientific 
cupping  were  grasped. 

1  Steinen,  “Shingu  Tribes,”  p.  345.  After  Sumner’s  Notes. 

2  Bartels,  “Med  Naturvolker,”  p.  270.  3  Mason,  “Origins  of 
Invention,”  p.  203.  4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  266. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


193 


Another  method  of  exorcism  is  by  kneading  and  massag¬ 
ing  the  body.  Spencer  and  Gillan  describe  as  follows  the 
process  as  practiced  in  Central  Australia:  “A  middle  aged 
man  fell  ill.  His  illness  was  at  once  attributed  to  the  fact 
that  he  had  deliberately  done  what  he  perfectly  well  knew 
was  contrary  to  the  custom,  and  no  one  was  in  the  least 
surprised.  Among  the  men  in  the  camp  were  five  doctors, 
and,  as  the  case  was  evidently  a  serious  one,  they  were 
called  into  consultation.  One  of  them — a  celebrated  medi¬ 
cine  man  from  a  neighbouring  tribe — gave-  it  as  his 
opinion  that  the  bone  of  a  dead  man,  attracted  by  the  camp 
fire,  or  through  the  influence  of  a  wizard,  had  entered  the 
body  of  the  patient  and  was  causing  the  trouble.  The 
others  agreed  with  this  opinion,  but,  not  to  be  outdone 
by  a  stranger,  the  oldest  doctor  of  the  tribe  in  question 
decided  that,  in  addition  to  the  bone,  an  arabillia,  or  wart 
of  a  gum  tree,  had  somehow  got  inside  the  body  of  the 
man.  The  three  less  experienced  men  looked  very  grave, 
but  said  nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  they  fully  concurred 
in  the  diagnosis  of  their  older  colleagues.  At  all  events 
it  was  decided  that  both  the  bone  and  the  wart  must 
be  removed,  and  under  cover  of  darkness,  they  were  in 
part  supposed  to  be  removed  after  much  sucking  and 
rubbing  of  the  body  of  the  patient.” 1  Howitt  thus 
writes  of  the  treatment  of  an  Australian  doctor:  “His 
method  of  cure  was  to  stroke  the  affected  part  with  his 
hands  until,  as  he  said,  he  could  Teel  the  thing  under  the 
skin.’  Then,  covering  the  place  with  a  piece  of  cloth,  he 

1  Spencer  and  Gillan,  “Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,”  p.  516. 

14 


194 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


drew  it  together  with  one  hand,  and  unfolding  it  he 
exhibited  within  its  folds  a  piece  of  quartz,  bone,  bark, 
charcoal,  even  in  one  case  a  glass  marble,  placed  there, 
as  he  said,  by  a  wizard,  as  the  cause  of  the  disease/7  1 
Matthews  describes  the  method  of  a  medicine  man  of 
the  Navahoes  in  his  treatment  of  a  sick  woman.  She  “was 
lifted  by  two  other  women  and  laid  on  her  side, . . .  with 
her  face  to  the  east.  While  she  lay  there,  the  medicine 
man,  amid  much  singing,  walked  around  her,  inscribed 
on  the  earth  at  her  feet  a  straight  line  with  his  finger, 
and  erased  it  with  his  foot,  inscribed  at  her  head  a  cross, 
and  rubbed  it  out  in  the  same  manner,  traced  radiating 
lines  in  all  directions  from  her  body,  and  obliterated  them, 
gave  her  a  light  massage,  whistled  over  her  from  head  to 
foot  and  all  around  her,  and  whistled  towards  the  smoke 
hole,  as  if  whistling  something  away.  These  acts  were  per¬ 
formed  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  recorded.  His 
last  operation  was  a  severe  massage,  in  which  he  kneaded 
every  part  of  her  body  forcibly,  and  pulled  her  joints  hard, 
whereat  she  groaned  and  made  demonstrations  of  suffer¬ 
ing/7  2  Among  the  Om alias,  the  treatment  of  sickness  was 
especially  painful,  since  it  consisted  not  only  of  bleeding, 
sucking,  and  of  kneading  the  body,  but  of  pulling  the  flesh 
below  the  ribs.1 2 3 

A  survival  of  the  rubbing  or  massaging  process  is  to  be 
observed  in  the  practice  of  osteopathy.  The  osteopath,  be  if 

1  Howitt,  “Australian  Medicine  Men,”  J.  A.  I.,  XVI,  p.  39. 

2  Matthews,  “The  Mountain  Chant,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1888,  p.  423. 

3  Fletcher-Lafiesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p-  567. 


CH  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


195 


understood,  does  not  pretend  to  remove  a  spirit  or  any 
other  disturbing  object  by  his  operations.  His  idea  is 
to  restore  healthy  action  in  a  dormant  organ.  Massaging 
is  recognized  by  the  best  physicians  as  a  therapeutic 
agency  in  case  of  sprains,  bruises,  indigestion,  and  many 
other  ailments.  There  is  no  doubt  that  both  the  medicine 
man  and  the  osteopath  produce  results;  although  no  evil 
spirit  or  foreign  object  is  cast  out,  as  the  savage  thinks, 
neither  does  disease  have  its  origin  in  the  spine,  according 
to  the  theory  of  the  osteopath  and  the  chiropractor.  In 
both  instances  cures  are  effected  in  spite  of  an  illusory 
major  premise.  The  reason  for  the  success  of  the 
application  of  massage  is  that  bodily  organs  are  often 
stimulated  to  renewed  activity  by  friction  through  which 
the  blood  is  brought  to  those  organs,  in  addition  to  the  fact 
that  certain  patients  are  particularly  amenable  to  suggestion. 

In  what  is  conceived  to  be  the  more  difficult  form  of 
exorcism,  one  daimon  is  employed  to  expel  another.  The 
medicine  man  pretends  to  subdue  the  daimon  in  the  patient 
by  virtue  of  the  spirit  with  which  he  himself  is  possessed; 
or  he  creates  the  impression  that  he  is  able  to  enlist  the  aid 
of  friendly  supernatural  powers.  This  method  of  exorcism 
known  as  “dualism”  continues  among  civilized  peoples.  An 
ancient  Egyptian  inscription  relates  that  Princess  Bint-resh, 
sister  of  Queen  Noferu-ra,  recovered  from  a  serious  sickness 
when  the  image  of  the  god  Khon-su  was  brought  to  her 
bedside.  Although  the  “learned  expert’7  Thutenhit  was 
unable  to  do  her  any  good,  her  recovery  was  immediate 
when  the  god  appeared  in  the  sick  chamber  of  the  princess, 

14* 


196 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  evil  spirit  of  the  disease  acknowledging  the  superior 
power  of  Khon-su,  and  leaving  at  once  his  usurped  abode.1 

Fire  is  regarded  as  a  powerful  means  of  spirit  ex¬ 
pulsion.  Whence  came  fire?  How  in  the  beginning  did 
man  obtain  possession  of  it?  In  volcanic  regions  its  dis¬ 
covery  is  easily  explained.  It  was  belched  up  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  To  the  savage  there  is  but  one  ex¬ 
planation  of  volcanic  eruption — it  is  mysterious,  and, 
therefore,  due  to  spirit  activity.  Hence  the  resulting  fire 
either  contains  a  spirit  or  is  itself  a  spirit.  But  while 
fire  is  ubiquitous,  crater  disturbances  are  not  found  in 
many  parts  of  the  earth.  In  the  light  of  this  knowledge, 
how  is  the  presence  of  fire  to  be  explained?  Electrical 
storms  have  always  occurred  all  over  the  world.  Fire, 
then,  must  have  come  from  bolts  of  lightning2  which 
ignited  trees  of  the  forests  and  grass  of  the  stepps.  But 
since  the  lightning  comes  out  of  the  skies  it  must  in  savage 
thought  have  been  sent  by  the  spirits  who  abide  in  the 
heavenly  regions.  The  fire,  therefore,  enkindled  by 
the  lightning  must  be  possessed  by,  or  be  one  or  more 
of  those  celestial  inhabitants.  Fire  crackles,  sputters,  and 
inflicts  pain  when  one  comes  too  near  it.  The 
savage  ascribes  these  properties  to  spirit  possession. 
Since  fire  itself  is  a  spirit,  or  contains  a  spirit,  may 
it  not  be  instrumental  in  frightening  away  spirits? 
This  the  savage  believes.  He  finds  fire  serviceable 
in  ridding  himself  of  his  mundane  foes.  Insects  fear  it; if 

1  Brugsch-Bey,  “Egypt  under  the  Pharaohs,”  II,  pp.  192—193. 

2  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  I,  p.  253  ff. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


197 


they  chance  to  come  within  its  reach  they  are  destroyed. 
The  most  savage  and  ferocious  animals  will  not  approach 
it;  the  blaze  dazzles  their  eyes,  the  heat  bums  them.  They 
are  easily  subdued  or  put  to  flight  by  the  brandishing  of 
a  burning  stick  or  lighted  torch.  Since  fire  is  an  effective 
means  of  vanquishing  earthly  enemies,  it  follows  that  it 
will  be  equally  advantageous  in  driving  off  invisible  and 
spiritual  foes.  Concerning  the  Yakuts  Sieroshevski  says, 
“The  most  trustworthy  agency  to  drive  out  daimons  which 
torment  people  in  sleep  is  fire,  placed  between  the  victim 
and  his  tormentor.  An  expiring  fire-brand  cast  down 
by  the  threshold  of  the  house-door  is  often  used  by  the 
Yakuts  to  prevent  evil  spirits  from  getting  into  the  house. 
Often  when  they  first  bring  into  the  stable  beasts  which 
they  have  newly  obtained,  they  lead  them  through  fire.” 1 
A  Yakut  “boy,”  he  continues,  “whose  finger  became  in¬ 
flamed  came  to  the  conclusion,  which  the  bystanders  shar¬ 
ed,  that  a  £yor?  [spirit]  had  established  itself  in  the  finger. 
Desiring  to  drive  it  out  the  boy  took  a  burning  coal  and 
began  to  apply  it  around  the  place  while  blowing  upon  it. 
When  the  burned  flesh  began  to  blister,  and  then  burst 
with  a  little  crackle,  the  curious  group  which  had  crowded 
around  him  flew  back  with  a  cry  of  terror,  and  the 
wounded  boy,  with  a  smile  of  self-satisfaction,  said:  ‘You 
saw  how  he  jumped  out!”’2  “A  man  who  had  the  rheuma¬ 
tism,”  he  again  says,  “had  his  body  marked  all  over  with 
deep  burnings.  As  soon  as  he  had  any  pain,  he 
applied  fire  to  the  seat  of  it.”  3  In  ancient  Chaldea,  the 

1  Sumner,  “Yakuts,”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI,  p.  105.  2  Ibid.  3  Ibid. 


198 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


exorcists  were  expert  in  expelling  daimons  which  caused 
disease.  The  priests  sometimes  made  a  fire  of  herbs, 
the  flame  of  which  was  thought  to  frighten  away  the 
daimons,  and  the  evils  for  which  they  were  responsible.1 
Leland  gives  a  Russian  gypsy  incantation  by  which  fire 
was  invoked  to  cure  illness.  It  is  as  follows:  “‘Great  Fire, 
my  defender  and  protector,  son  of  the  celestial  fire,  equal  of 
the  sun  who  cleanses  the  earth  of  foulness,  deliver  this  man 
from  the  evil  sickness  that  torments  him  day  and  night  V”  2 

It  is  striking  to  note  in  this  connexion  that  uncon¬ 
sciously,  accidentally,  unintentionally,  and  in  spite  of  him¬ 
self,  the  medicine  man  by  his  use  of  fire  initiated  a  scientific 
method  of  procedure.  Fire  is  the  only  infallible  germicide 
known  to  the  scientific  world.  By  it  water  is  purified, 
surgical  instruments  are  sterilized,  and  by  the  cooking  of 
food,  germs  of  disease  have  been  destroyed,  thus  preventing 
many  a  period  of  sickness.  And  the  therapeutic  use  of 
fire  had  its  beginning  in  the  efforts  of  the  medicine  man, 
searching  for  ghost-banning  influences.  One  may  read  that 
among  the  Araucanians  a  cautery  of  burning  pitch  was 
used 3 ;  while  Grinnell  declares  that  among  the  Indians  of 
his  acquaintance  “cauterizing  with  red  hot  irons  was  not 
infrequently  employed.”  4  In  Gilbert  Island  cauterization  is 
accomplished  by  means  of  small  pieces  of  hot  cocoanut 
shell.5  The  California  Indians  for  the  initial  stage  of 

syphilis  applied  a  hot  coal  to  the  indurated  chancre.6 

1  Maspero,  “Dawn  of  Civilization  in  Egypt  and  Chaldea,”  p.  780. 

2  Leland,  “ Gypsy  Sorcery,”  p.  40.  3  Smith,  “Araucanians,”  p.  233. 

4  Grinnell,  “The  Healing  Art  as  practised  by  the  Indians  of  the 
Plains,”  Cincinnati  Lancet  and  Observer,  VII,  1874,  pp.  145 — 147. 

5  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  287.  6  Ibid. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


199 


Among  primitive  peoples  water  is  considered  a  power¬ 
ful  means  of  influencing  the  spirits.  The  sea  rolls,  the 
breakers  roar,  the  waves  lash  the  shore.  Rivers  flow 
ceaselessly,  the  currents  now  slow,  now  swift,  now  falling 
over  cataracts,  eroding  earth  and  stones,  causing  rapids 
to  wear  gulches — all  this  calls  for  explanation.  After  heavy 
rains  freshets  are  formed,  fields  are  overflowed,  trees  and 
rocks  are  washed  away,  and  often  men  and  beasts  are  vic¬ 
tims  of  the  flood.  An  ill-fated  canoe,  laden  with  human 
freight,  is  sometimes  lost  in  a  whirlpool;  springs  bubble 
up  out  of  the  ground;  water  veins  are  struck  underneath 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  It  is  impossible  to  project 
developed  ideas  of  civilized  man  back  into  the  un¬ 
developed  mind  of  the  savage,  and  say  that  the  latter 
attributes  those  phenomena  to  natural  causes.  The  best 
he  can  do  with  his  untrained  intellect  and  limited 
fund  of  knowledge,  is  to  ascribe  those  extraordinary 
occurences  to  spirit  influences.  One  hears,  therefore,  of 
the  “God  of  storm  and  calm,  the  vexed  sea  and  the  quiet 
harbor,”  of  water  sprites,  fairies,  and  elves.  Since  water 
manifests  such  convincing  proof  of  spirit  possession, 
why  should  it  not  be  useful  as  a  means  of  banishing 
spirits?  Primitive  man  believes  in  its  ghost  compelling 
power.  The  savage  is  not  slow  to  observe  that  water  can 
be  made  to  cleanse  material  substances.  With  it  he  removes 
the  dirt  from  his  bow  and  arrow,  cleanses  his  garments, 
and  renders  his  person  more  attractive.  Since  water  is  a 
means  of  purifying  visible  and  tangible  things,  the  primitive 
man  reasons  that  it  can  banish  those  invisible  and  intangible 


200 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


influences  that  inflict  both  corporeal  and  spiritual  evil. 
It  is  stated,  for  example,  that  the  “Malagasy,  con¬ 
sidering  all  diseases  as  inflicted  by  an  evil  spirit, 
consult  a  medicine  man  whose  method  is  to  re¬ 
move  the  daimon  by  means  of  a  little  grass,  or 
the  water  with  which  the  patient  has  rinsed  his  mouth.”  1 
Animals  fear  water.  By  it  dogs  can  be  made  to  stop 
fighting,  a  mad  dog  can  be  swerved  from  his  course,  a 
mad  bull  can  be  put  to  flight.  If  to  the  savage  mind  this 
element  has  the  power,  by  virtue  of  indwelling  spirits,  to 
drive  away  animals,  it  can  surely  keep  at  a  distance  the  in¬ 
visible  enemies  of  the  spirit  world,  some  of  which  are 
metamorphosed  animals.  In  the  Jewish  Hades,  therefore,  it 
will  be  remembered,  a  great  gulf  separated  the  spirits  of 
the  unjust  from  the  spirits  of  the  just2  ;  and  in  the  Greek 
belief  the  soul  had  to  cross  the  river  Styx  before  it  could 
reach  the  spirit  world.  In  this  connexion,  it  is  told  that  the 
Omahas  believed  ghosts  would  never  cross  a  stream,  and, 
therefore,  if  pursued  by  these  unwelcome  apparitions,  a 
man  would  go  post-haste  to  the  nearest  rivulet  and  cross  it. 
The  extent  of  the  barrier  made  no  difference  to  the  ghost ; 
it  was  unable  to  cross  any  running  water.3 

Tylor  writes:  “With  all  the  obscurity  and  intricacy 
due  to  age-long  modification,  the  primitive  thought  that 
overrules  water  ceremonies  in  vogue  among  many  civilized 
peoples  is  still  open  to  view.  There  has  been  a  transition 
from  practical  to  symbolic  cleansing,  from  the  removal  of 

1  Ellis,  “Madagascar,”  I,  pp.  221 — 232. 

2  St.  Luke,  16  :  26. 

3  Fletcher-Laflesche,  “The  Omaha  Tribe,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1911,  p.  591. 


ch.  vi  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  201 


bodily  impurity  to  deliverance  from  moral  and  spiritual 
impurity.  But  there  is  a  survival  in  all  water  rites  of  the 
savage  idea  of  spirit-banning.  Holy  water  is  in  full  use  in 
the  Greek  and  Roman  Churches.  It  bathes  the  worshipper 
as  he  enters  the  temple,  it  cures  diseases,  it  averts  sorcery 
from  men  and  animals,  it  drives  daimons  from  the  possessed, 
it  stops  the  pen  of  the  spirit- writer,  it  drives  the  spirit- 
moved  table  as  it  is  sprinkled  upon  it  to  dash  itself 
against  the  wall;  at  least  these  are  among  the  powers 
attributed  to  it  and  vouched  for  by  ecclesiastical  author¬ 
ity.”  1  Why  does  all  this  power  reside  in  water?  The 
reason  may  not  have  been  expressed,  but  the  explana¬ 
tion  goes  back  to  the  savage  idea  of  spirit  possession. 

In  the  use  of  water  to  expel  the  disease  daimon,  the 
medicine  man  unconsciously,  accidentally,  and  without 
purpose,  hit  upon  a  remedy,  the  therapeutic  value  of  which, 
although  not  comprehended  either  by  himself  or  by  any¬ 
body  in  his  class,  is  now  generally  recognized.  In  1702, 
Sir  John  Floyer  referred  the  water  cure  system  to 
baptism,  and  assigned  as  a  reason  for  rachitis  the  fact  that 
“children  in  baptism  were  no  longer  plunged  in  water  in 
pious  England,  but  simply  had  their  heads  wet.”  2  In  1829, 
Vincenz  Priessnitz,  of  Grafenherd,  Austria,  inaugurated 
hydrotherapy  as  a  system.3  Hydrotherapy  was  introduced 
into  England  by  Captain  Claridge,  and  to  John  Smedley  is 
given  the  credit  for  popularizing  the  system  among  English- 
speaking  peoples.  In  this  century  hydrotherapy  is  advocated 

1  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  II,  pp.  440—441. 

2  Baas,  “History  of  Medicine,”  p.  722. 

3  R.  Metcalf,  “Life  of  Vincenz  Priessnitz,”  pp.  77  ff. 


202 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


by  reputable  physicians  as  a  rational  method  of  procedure 
in  certain  cases  of  sickness.  In  the  treatment  of  hyper¬ 
pyrexia  the  cooling  bath  holds  a  recognized  position;  in 
certain  diseases  all  physicians  recommend  the  wet  sheet 
pack;  the  Turkish  bath,  it  would  seem,  has  come  to  stay; 
the  morning  “dip,”  “shower,”  “tub,”  or  “sponge,” — these 
are  only  a  few  ways  in  which  hydrotherapy  has  contributed 
to  public  health.  And  hydrotherapy  harks  back  to  the 
efforts  of  the  shaman  to  banish  spirits  by  means  of  water. 

In  pointing  out  the  methods  of  the  medicine  man  in 
ministering  to  the  sick,  mention  should  be  made  of  amulets 
and  charms.  An  amulet  is  something  hung  around  the  neck, 
or  otherwise  attached  to  the  body,  and  worn  in  order  to 
ward  off  the  attacks  of  spirits.  A  charm  is  used  for  the 
same  purpose,  but  it  is  not  always  suspended  from  the 
body.  Amulets  and  charms  are  supposed  to  have  spirits 
residing  in  the  materials  out  of  which  they  are  made. 
Hence  they  are  fetiches.  Since  to  the  savage  mind,  charms 
and  amulets  are  the  abodes  of  spirits,  it  is  thought  that 
they  are  efficacious  in  vanquishing  evil  spirits.  But  the 
material  object  is  not  responsible  for  the  cures  referred  to 
the  healing  agency  of  amulets  and  charms.  The  spirit 
residing  in  the  outward  form  has  driven  out  the  daimon  of 
disease — that  is  the  reason  assigned  for  the  recovery  of 
the  patient.  Sometimes  a  charm  is  made  of  an  herb  or  root 
and  taken  internally.  The  primitive  man,  however,  never 
looks  for  the  physiological  effect  of  what  would  now  be 
called  the  medicine.  The  shaman  thinks  that  the  spirit,  which 
dwells  in  the  root  or  herb,  enters  into  the  body  of  the 


ck.v!  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  203 


patient,  and,  searching  through  the  vitals,  discovers  and 
drives  out  the  disease  daimon,  which  is  the  cause  of  the 
sickness.1  Among  modern  Egyptians,  when  a  man  is  sick, 
he  is  made  to  swallow  pieces  of  paper  on  which  are  written 
texts  from  the  Koran.2  It  is  not  difficult  to  perceive 
that  the  notion  here  is  that  the  spirit  dwelling  in  the 
inspired  words  is  supposed  to  expel  the  spirit  of  disease. 
Another  reason  for  this  method  of  exorcism  is  the  fact 
that  the  materials  out  of  which  charms  and  amulets  are 
fashioned  are  often  portions  of  the  bodies  of  dead  animals 
and  dead  men.  The  ghosts  and  spirits  have  the  same  fears 
and  sensibilities  as  when  in  the  flesh.  The  savage  thinks 
that  the  possession  of  a  part  of  a  living  man  gives  power 
over  him  because  by  some  mysterious  means  the  soul  of 
the  man  is  identified  with  that  part.  Reasoning  from 
analogy,  it  is  clearly  seen  that  the  possession  of  a  portion 
of  a  dead  man  will  likewise  give  power  over  him.  Some 
peoples  believe  that  a  dead  man,  even  as  a  live  man,  has 
need  of  every  part  of  his  body.  Of  the  Israelites  we  read 
that  “Joseph  gave  commandment  concerning  his  bones,”  3 
that  is,  that  they  might  be  preserved  against  the  day  of 
resurrection.  The  Peruvians  and  the  inland  negroes  of 
Ardra  preserve  the  hair  and  nails  of  their  dead,  apparently 
for  the  same  reason.4  The  inference,  then,  would  seem 
justified  that  in  the  belief  of  these  peoples,  if  one 
possesses  the  relics  of  a  dead  man  or  dead  animal,  he  has 

1  Nassau,  “Feti chism  in  West  Africa,”  pp.  97  ff. 

2  Ebers,  “Egypt,”  II,  p.  61. 

3  Hebrews,  11:22.  4  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  “The  Royal  Commen¬ 
taries  of  the  Incas,”  I,  p.  127 ;  Bastian,  “Der  Mensch,”  II,  p.  357. 


204 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


a  means  of  hurting  the  dead  owner.  In  order,  therefore,  to 
drive  away  the  spirits  which  cause  sickness,  the  medicine 
man  has  only  to  obtain  some  part,  real  or  supposed,  of 
the  body  of  a  dead  man  or  animal.  In  other  words,  since 
the  ghosts  of  the  dead  are  responsible  for  sickness,  and 
since  they  have  need  of  all  their  parts,  the  shaman,  by 
means  of  amulets  and  charms  made  of  those  parts, 
can  coerce  the  spirits  into  doing  his  bidding. 
Disease  being  sometimes  believed  to  be  due  to  an 
animal,  or  to  the  spirit  of  an  animal,  amulets  and  charms 
are  often  made  from  relics  of  animals.  Among  the  Dyaks 
of  Borneo,  the  charms  belonging  to  a  medicine  man  con¬ 
sist  of  some  teeth  of  alligators  and  honey-bears,  several 
tusks  of  boars,  chips  of  deer  horn,  and  claws  of  animals.1 
In  Afghanistan,  it  was  believed  that  the  graves  of  the  dead 
had  power  to  cure  disease.2  The  inhabitants  of  North  Hants, 
England,  used  to  wear  a  tooth  taken  from  a  dead  body 
suspended  from  the  neck,  as  a  cure  for  toothache.3  Accord¬ 
ing  to  the  same  authority,  bones  taken  from  graveyards, 
from  time  immemorial,  have  been  used  as  charms  against 
disease.4  Often  a  root  or  herb,  which  really  has  medicinal 
value,  is  used  for  a  charm.  Some  one  of  the  predecessors 
of  the  medicine  man,  in  casting  about  for  a  means  to  ex¬ 
orcise  disease  daimons,  happened  to  blunder  upon  a 
leaf,  bark,  or  root,  which,  when  given  internally,  proved 
efficient.  Not  knowing  the  “modus  operandi”  of  the  drug, 

1  Boyle,  “Adventures  Among  the  Dyaks  of  Borneo,”  p.  207. 

2  Simpson,  “Ancient  or  Buddhist  Remains  in  Afghanistan,” 
Frazer’s  Magazine,  Feb.,  1880,  pp.  197—198. 

6  Black,  “Folk  Medicine,”  pp.  98—99.  4  Ibid. 


ch  v!  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  205 


the  savage  doctor  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
discovered  either  a  fetich  more  powerful  than  the  spirit  of 
the  sickness,  or  a  herb  by  means  of  which  the  malicious 
spirit  finally  was  propitiated.  This  root  or  herb  was  passed  on 
to  later  generations,  until  some  individual  arose  who 
possessed  sufficient  intelligence  to  observe  that  it  had  a 
physiological  rather  than  a  magical  effect,1  and  in  that 
manner  a  valuable  medicinal  agent  was  discovered. 

In  the  use  of  amulets  and  charms  for  the  purpose  of  ex¬ 
orcism,  the  medicine  man  practices  what  is  known  among 
primitive  peoples  as  the  “white  art.”  The  “white  art” 
is  distinguished  from  the  “black  art”  in  the  fact  that 
while  the  former  is  passively  defensive,  the  latter  is 
actively  offensive.  The  “black  art”  exists  for  the  purpose 
of  injuring  or  killing  somebody;  the  “white  art”  exists  for 
the  reason  that  one  by  its  use  can  defend  himself  from 
adversaries.  To  the  savage  manner  of  thinking,  the  de¬ 
fensive  use  of  “white  magic”  is  analogous  to  the  defensive 
use  of  a  gun.  If  a  thief  breaks  into  a  house,  the  natural 
thing  is  to  drive  him  out  by  the  firing  of  a  pistol,  and  even, 
in  case  of  necessity,  to  kill  him.  If,  in  like  manner,  a 
malignant  spirit  gets  into  the  body  of  a  primitive  man  and 
makes  him  sick,  the  medicine  man  by  the  use  of  a  charm, 
which  contains  an  exceedingly  potent  spirit,  pretends  to 
compel  the  ill-disposed  daimon  to  take  its  departure.  “White 
magic”  to  the  savage  mind  is  very  powerful.  It  is  able  to 
suspend  the  law  of  destiny,  it  can  defend  against  the  wither¬ 
ing  glance  of  the  “evil  eye,”  it  can  render  the  spell  of 

1  Nassau,  “Fetichism  in  West  Africa,”  pp.  106  ff. 


206 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  magician  of  no  effect.1  Thus  in  Borneo,  the  Dyak 
medicine  man  waves  and  jingles  charms  over  the  affected 
part  of  the  sick  man,  and  pretends  to  remove  the 
spirits.2  The  shaman  of  Sumatra  practices  medicine  chiefly 
by  charms;  when  called  to  treat  a  patient,  he  usually  asks 
for  “something  on  account”  with  which  to  purchase  the 
appropriate  charms.3  The  medicine  of  the  Abyssinians 
to  a  large  extent  consists  of  the  use  of  amulets  and  charms. 
That  is  the  method  of  treating  even  leprosy  and  syphilis.4 
The  Magi  recommended  that  a  species  of  beetle,  taken  up 
with  the  left  hand,  be  worn  as  a  charm  against  quartan 
fevers.5  For  tertian  fever  the  Magi  and  the  Pythagoreans 
prescribed  the  gathering  of  the  “pseudo-anchusa,”  during 
which  the  one  who  plucked  it  was  to  utter  the  name 
of  the  individual  to  be  cured,  after  which  the  plant  was  to 
be  fastened  to  the  patient.6  In  ancient  Egypt,  both  men 
and,  as  averred,  gods  wore  amulets  and  charms  for 
protection,  and  used  magical  formulas  to  coerce  each 
other.7  The  Bezoar  stone  in  former  times  was  used  against 
melancholia.  It  was  reputed  to  remove  sadness,  and  to 
make  him  merry  who  resorted  to  it.8  The  Fumaria 
Capreolata,  it  is  said,  derives  its  name  from  the  Latin 
fumuSy  smoke,  because  the  smoke  of  this  plant  was  claimed 
by  exorcists  to  possess  the  power  of  banishing  spirits.9 

1  Nassau,  “Fetichism  in  West  Africa,”  pp.  100 — 112. 

2  St.  John,  “Life  in  the  Forests  of  the  Far  East,”  I,  p.  201. 

3  Marsden,  “History  of  Sumatra,”  p.  189. 

4  Baas,  “History  of  Medicine,”  p.  68. 

8  Pliny,  “Natural  History,”  B.  XXII,  C.  24;  B  XXX,  C.  30. 

«  Ibid. 

7  Erman,  “Life  in  Ancient  Egypt,”  p.  353. 

8  Burton,  “Anatomy  of  Melancholy,”  II,  p.  131. 

9  C.  A.  John,  “Flowers  of  the  Field,”  p.  32. 


ch.vi  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  207 


Sometimes  knots  are  used  as  charms.  The  following 
example  is  taken  from  Cockayne’s  “Saxon  Leechdoms”: 
“As  soon  as  a  man  gets  pain  in  his  eyes,  tie  in  unwrought 
flax  as  many  knots  as  there  are  letters  in  his  name, 
pronouncing  them  as  you  go,  and  tie  it  around  his  neck.”  1 
A  common  cure  for  warts  is  to  tie  as  many  knots  of  hair 
as  there  are  warts  and  throw  the  hair-knots  away.2  In 
the  Popular  Antiquities  of  Brand  is  this  remedy:  “If 
in  the  month  of  October,  a  little  before  the  full  of  the 
moon,  you  pluck  a  sprig  of  elder,  and  cut  the  case  that 
is  betwixt  two  of  its  knots  into  nine  pieces,  and  these  pieces 
be  bound  in  a  piece  of  linen,  and  by  a  thread  so  hung 
about  the  neck  that  they  touch  the  spoon  of  the  heart  or 
the  sword-form  cartilage,  you  have  a  sovereign  cure  for 
epilepsy.” 3  Brand  records  also  a  Devonshire  cure  for 
warts:  “Take  a  piece  of  twine,  tie  it  in  as  many  knots  as 
you  have  warts,  touch  each  wart  with  a  knot,  and  throw 
the  twine  behind  your  back  in  some  place  where  it  will 
soon  decay— but  tell  no  one  what  you  have  done.  When 
the  twine  is  decayed,  your  warts  will  disappear  without  any 
pain  or  trouble,  being  in  fact  charmed  away.” 4  In 
Lancashire,  England,  people  commonly  wear  charmed  belts 
for  the  cure  of  rheumatism.5  In  some  parts  of  England  a 
cord  is  worn  about  the  waist  to  ward  off  toothache.3  Black 
gives  a  New  England  charm  for  an  obstinate  ague:  “The 

1  Cockayne,  “Saxon  Leechdoms,”  I,  Preface,  p.  XXIX. 

2  Black,  “Folk  Medicine,”  p.  185. 

3  Brand,  “Popular  Antiquities,”  III,  p.  285. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  276. 

5  Black,  “Folk  Medicine,”  p.  176. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  177. 


208  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


patient  must  take  a  string  made  of  woolen  yarn,  and  go 
by  himself  to  an  apple  tree;  there  he  must  tie  his  left 
hand  loosely  with  the  right  to  the  tree  by  a  tri-colored 
string.  Then  he  must  slip  his  hand  out  of  the  knot,  and 
run  into  the  house  without  looking  behind  him.” 1  A 
popular  folk  remedy  for  fever  in  the  time  of  Pliny  was  to 
take  the  dust  in  which  a  hawk  had  bathed  herself,  tie  it 
up  in  a  linen  cloth,  and  attach  it  to  the  body  with  a  red 
string.2  Pliny  gives  another  remedy  for  the  same  disease: 
“Some  put  a  caterpillar  in  a  piece  of  linen,  and  pass  a  thread 
three  times  around  it,  and  then  tie  three  knots,  repeating 
at  each  knot  why  it  is  that  the  operation  is  performed.”  3 

It  not  infrequently  happens  that  individuals  sufficiently 
protected  by  amulets  and  charms  believe  themselves  to  be 
invulnerable  to  diseases,  mishaps,  plagues,  and  pestilences. 
Thus  “the  Badaga  folk,”  says  Reclus,  “mountaineers  of 
the  Neilgherries,  insure  their  children  against  accident  and 
sickness  by  talismans  made  of  the  earth  and  ashes  of 
funeral  pyres.” 4  “At  Christmas  tide,  in  Christian  coun¬ 
tries,”  as  Nassau  remarks,  “decorations  with  the  holly  bush 
are  made  without  the  thought  that  the  December  festival 
was  originally  a  heathen  feast,  and  that  superstitious  fore¬ 
fathers  spread  the  holly  as  a  guard  against  evil  fairies. 
The  superstitious  African  negro  does  the  same  thing  today. 
As  the  holly  bush  does  not  grow  in  his  tropical  air,  he  has 
substituted  the  cayenne  pepper  bush.  The  spirits  which  he 

1  Black,  “Folk  Medicine,”  p.  38. 

2  Pliny,  “Natural  History,”  B.  XXX,  C.  30. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Reclus,  “Primitive  Folk,”  p.  232. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


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CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


209 


fears  can  no  more  pass  over  that  pepper  leaf  with  its  red 
pods  than  the  Irish  fairy  can  dare  to  pass  the  holly  leaf  with 
its  red  berries.” 1  The  ancient  Egyptians  were  buried  with 
their  amulets  in  order  that  the  spirits  of  those  amulets  might 
protect  their  owners  against  the  evil  spirits  of  the  other 
world.  A  great  number  of  charms  were  found  on  the 
body  of  Horuta,  at  the  time  of  excavations  at  the  pyramid 
of  Hawara.  They  were  the  most  magnificent  series  of 
amulets  that  have  ever  been  seen.2  For  a  protection 
against  epilepsy,  Alexander  Trallianus  prescribed  bits  of 
sail  cloth  taken  from  a  ship-wrecked  vessel.  These  were  to 
be  tied  to  the  right  arm  and  worn  for  seven  weeks.3 
According  to  Brand,  if  a  boy  were  beaten  with  an  elder 
stick  his  growth  would  be  hindered;  but  an  elder-bush  on 
which  the  sun  never  shone  was  esteemed  a  protection  against 
erysipelas.4  Cornelius  Agrippa  used  to  say  that  the 
“cinquefoil,”  or  five-leafed  grass,  resists  poison,  and  expels 
evil  spirits  by  virtue  of  the  number  five.5  The  Negritos 
of  Zambales,  Philippine  Islands,  believe  in  the  efficacy  of 
certain  kinds  of  wood.  Worn  on  the  limbs,  those  pieces  of 
wood  are  supposed  to  cure  rheumatism ;  worn  around  the 
neck,  they  are  thought  to  be  remedies  for  colds  and  sore 
throat.6  It  is  a  common  occurrence  to  meet  men  who 
carry  in  their  pockets  horse-chestnuts  as  a  protection 
against  rheumatism. 

1  Nassau,  “Fetichism  in  West  Africa,”  p.  101. 

2  Petrie,  “Ten  Years’  Digging  in  Egypt,”  p.  94. 

3  Smith,  “  Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Antiquities,”  Articles, 
“Therapeutics,”  and  “Amulets,”  p.  91. 

4  Brand,  “Observations,”  III,  p.  284. 

5  Morley,  “Life  of  Cornelius  Agrippa,”  I,  p.  165. 

6  Reed,  “Negritos  of  Zambales,”  p.  66. 


15 


210  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


It  must  not  be  omitted,  in  passing,  to  remark  upon 
the  use  of  some  dangling  or  fluttering  object,  which  by 
attracting  the  “evil  eye”  is  believed  to  protect  the  wearer 
from  its  malignant  influence.  Everybody  is  cognizant  of  the 
strange  power  which  one  mind  has  of  working  on  another 
through  the  eye.  If  the  eye  of  man  can  have  this  strange, 
mysterious  power  over  an  individual  with  weaker 
will,  how  much  greater  will  be  the  effect  of  the  eyes  of 
spirits!  So  came  about  the  notion  that  the  “evil  eye”  lies 
in  wait  for  the  fortunate  and  prosperous  to  work  them 
harm.  One  reason,  therefore,  for  bad  luck  is  the  fact  that 
spirits,  jealous  of  the  good  fortune  and  happiness  of  man, 
trip  him  up,  and  send  loss,  pain,  and  calamity.1  Whatever 
dangles  or  flutters,  however,  will  attract  the  attention  of 
the  “evil  eye”  to  itself  and  away  from  the  individual  who 
is  to  be  protected.2  Among  the  Semites,  therefore,  rags  or 
dirty  clothing  used  to  be  hung  on  children  to  protect  them 
from  the  “evil  eye.”3  For  the  same  reason,  the  Moslems 
decorated  themselves  and  their  horses  with  shining,  waving 
articles,  and  adorned  their  houses  with  streamers  on  which 
were  printed  texts  of  the  Koran.”  4  The  Anodyne  necklace, 
which  consisted  of  beads  turned  out  of  the  root 
of  the  white  Bryony,  and  which  was  hung  around  the  necks 
of  infants  in  order  to  assist  their  teething,  and  to  ward  off 
convulsions,  was  placed  there  to  distract  the  attention  of 
the  “evil  eye.”5  Quartz,  coral,  and  precious  stones  are 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  pp.  43  ff. 

2  Monier-Williams,  “Brahmanism  and  Hindooism,”  p.  254. 

3  W.  R.  Smith,  “Religion  of  the  Semites,”  p.  448. 

4  Sumner,  “Folkways,”  p.  517. 

6  Salverte,  “Philosophy  of  Magic,”  I,  p.  195. 


CH.  Vi 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


211 


much  in  use  as  charms  and  amulets,  because  it  is  thought 
that  those  minerals  are  effective  in  warding  off  the  glance 
of  “evil  eye.” 

Among  the  many  notions  entertained  by  the  savage 
concerning  the  soul  is  the  identification  of  the  name  with 
its  possessor.1  From  this  identification  arises  the  idea  that 
possession  of  the  name  of  a  person  is  equivalent  to  getting 
hold  of  his  throat.  The  possessor  thus  has  the  possessed 
at  such  a  disadvantage  that  he  can  coerce  him  into  doing 
his  will.  Bancroft  says  of  the  native  races  of  the  Pacific 
States  of  North  America,  “With  them  the  name  assumes 
a  personality;  it  is  the  shadow  or  spirit,  or  other  self  of 
the  flesh  and  blood  person.” 2  Mooney  writes:  “The 
Indian  regards  his  name  not  as  a  mere  label,  but  as  a 
distinct  part  of  his  personality,  just  as  much  as  his  eyes 
or  his  teeth,  and  believes  that  injury  will  result  as  surely 
from  the  malicious  handling  of  his  name  as  from  a  wound 
inflicted  on  any  part  of  his  physical  organism.” 3  This 
may  account  for  the  manifestation,  on  the  part  of  primitive 
man,  of  a  desire  to  keep  his  name  a  secret.  For  it  is 
said  of  the  Land  Dyaks,  that  they  “often  change  the 
names  of  their  children,  especially  if  they  are  sickly,  there 
being  an  idea  that  they  will  deceive  the  inimical  spirits  by 
following  this  practice.”  4  It  may  be  for  the  same  reason 
“that  both  Powhatan  and  Pocahontas  are  known  in  history 
under  assumed  appellations,  their  true  names  having  been 
concealed  from  the  whites  until  the  pseudonyms  were  too 

1  Vide  p.  16.  2  Bancroft,  “The  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States 
of  North  America,”  I,  p.  245.  3  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the 
Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1891,  p.  343.  4  St.  John,  “Life  in  the 
Forests  of  the  Far  East,”  I,  p.  197. 


15* 


212 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


firmly  established  to  be  supplanted.”  1  Since  to  the  mind 
of  primitive  man  there  is  little  difference  between  the  dead 
and  the  living,  pronouncing  the  names  of  ghosts  and 
spirits  gives  power  over  those  most  dreaded  enemies. 
This  explains  why  nature  people  dislike  to  utter 
the  names  of  the  gods,  for  by  so  doing  it  is 
believed  their  anger  is  kindled.  Thus  the  Chinese, 
thinking  it  wrong  to  use  the  name  of  their  supreme  Ruler 
on  ordinary  occasions,  use  instead  the  name  of  his 
home,  ‘Tien/  Heaven.2  According  to  Exodus,  the  third 
chapter,  Javeh  is  not  to  be  spoken  of  by  his  true  name.3 
Again  it  is  written,  “Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of 
Javeh  thy  God  in  vain,”4  that  is,  thou  shalt  not  use  the 
name,  thou  art  permitted  to  mention,  in  a  light  or  frivolous 
manner.  The  savage  identification  of  the  name  with  the  soul, 
together  with  the  derivative  idea  that  calling  the  names 
of  the  ghosts  and  spirits  gives  power  over  them,  and 
may  kindle  their  anger,  is  responsible  for  the  practice 
of  the  necromancer  when  he  makes  his  invocations. 
In  I  Samuel,  28: 15,  the  shadow  of  the  prophet  asks 
why  he  has  been  disturbed  by  the  calling  of  his 
name.  Spencer  notes  that  “an  Icelandic  saga  describes 
ghosts  severally  summoned  by  name  as  answering 

to  the  summons ; _ and  the  alleged  effect  of  calling  the 

name  is  implied  in  the  still-extant,  though  now  jocose  say- 
ing, — ‘Talk  of  the  devil,  and  he  is  sure  to  appear/” 5 
Thus  the  savage  idea  of  other-worldliness,  implying 

1  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.,1891,  p.  343. 

2  Edkins,  “  Religon  in  China,”  p.  71.  3  Exodus,  3:13- 15. 

4  Ibid.,  20:7.  5  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.249. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


213 


that  the  spirit  world  repeats  this  world,  fosters  the  notion 
that  the  spirits  can  be  acted  on  by  arts  similar  to  those 
which  act  on  the  living — that  possession  of  the  name  gives 
over  the  gods  an  influence  and  power  like  that  which  it  is 
supposed  to  give  over  ancestors  and  rulers  before  their 
apotheosis. 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  to  find  the  medicine 
man  directing  his  activities  along  lines  suggested  by 
these  notions.  Since  to  possess  the  name  of  a  god  is  to  have 
power  over  him,  why  not  make  use  of  this  advantage  to 
exorcise  the  daimon  of  sickness?  Why  not  enlist  the  aid 
of  other  spirits,  more  powerful  than  those  responsible  for 
the  mischief,  to  assist  in  driving  away  the  daimon  of 
darkness?  This  method,  already  refered  to  as  dualism,1 
is  resorted  to  by  the  medicine  man,  as  well  as  by  his 
successors  in  practice,  the  priest-doctors.  Thus  among 
the  Indians  of  Acadia,  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
medicine  man  to  work  himself  up  into  an  ecstatic 
condition,  at  the  same  time  invoking  the  names 
of  his  gods.  When  fully  inspired  by  what  modern 
spiritualists  would  call  his  “control”  he,  appearing  more 
like  a  devil  than  like  a  heavenly  being,  would  assert  in 
firm  tones  what  the  condition  of  the  patient  was,  and 
sometimes  make  a  fairly  accurate  guess.2  The  Homeric 
Greeks  held  to  the  savage  notion  of  the  inherent 
connexion  between  the  name  or  word,  and  the  soul. 
Odysseus,  for  example,  after  depriving  the  Cyclops 

1  Vide  pp.  195  ff. 

2  Hoffmann,  Quoting  Charlevoix  “Journal  of  a  Voyage  to  North 
America,”  II,  p.  177,  Bur.  Eth.,  1896,  p.  139. 


214  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


of  his  sight,  refused  to  tell  his  name,  lest  the  giant 
should  curse  him.  Shortly  afterwards  the  Cyclops  learned 
the  name  of  the  wily  Ithacan,  and,  therefore,  was  able 
to  call  down  upon  him  a  powerful  imprecation.1  The  in¬ 
ference  is  plain  that  getting  possession  of  the  name  in  this 
case  was  regarded  as  equivalent  to  getting  possession  of 
the  soul,  and,  consequently,  of  being  able  to  invoke  male¬ 
dictions.  Even  the  cultured  among  the  Greeks  never  wholly 
rid  themselves  of  this  idea.2 

Since  the  name  of  a  man  is  identical  with  his  soul  or 
spirit,  it  readily  follows  that  the  written  name  or  word  is  a 
spirit,  or  contains  a  spirit,  and,  therefore,  is  a  fetich.  In  his 
treatment  of  disease,  consequently,  the  medicine  man  often 
pretends  to  subsidize  the  spirit  dwelling  in  the  written 
or  spoken  word,  and  by  the  means  of  this  more  powerful 
being  to  ward  off,  or  expel,  the  malignant  spirits  of  disease. 
Survivals  of  this  practice  have  continued  throughout  the 
ages.  Sir  John  Lubbock  says  that  “the  use  of  writing  as 
medicine  prevails  largely  in  Africa,  where  the  priests  or 
wizards  write  a  prayer  on  a  piece  of  board,  wash  it  off, 
and  make  the  patient  drink  it.”  3  Of  the  Kirghiz,  Atkinson 
says  that  the  mallas  [shamans]  sell  amulets  at  the  rate  of  a 
sheep  for  each  piece  of  written  paper.4  According  to 
Erman,  the  belief  that  there  are  words  and  actions  by 
which  men  could  produce  an  effect  upon  the  powers  of 
nature,  upon  every  living  being,  upon  animals,  and  even 

1  Odyssey,  Book  IX,  II.  425  ff. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  245. 

3  Lubbock,  “Origin  of  Civilization,”  p.  16. 

4  Atkinson,  “Siberia,”  p.  310. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


215 


upon  gods,  was  indissolubly  connected  with  all  the  actions 
of  the  Egyptians.  The  formulas  used  by  the  magicians 
were  believed  to  be  revelations  from  the  gods  themselves. 
They  were  made  up  wholly  or  in  part  from  some  foreign 
tongue  or  a  meaningless  jargon,  and  the  more  mysterious 
and  difficult  of  understanding  they  were,  the  greater 
their  power  was  thought  to  be.1  Cockayne,  in  his  preface 
to  “Saxon  Leechdoms,”  gives  one  of  the  charms 
of  Marcellus  against  inflamed  eyes.  It  is  as  follows:  “Write 
on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper  ou(3atx,  and  hang  this  round  the 
neck  of  the  patient  with  a  thread  from  the  loom.  In  a 
state  of  purity  and  chastity  write  on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper 
cpupcpapav,  and  hang  it  round  the  neck  of  the  man.  The 
following  will  stop  inflammation  coming  on,  written  on  a 
clean  sheet  of  paper:  poi>(3og,  pvov eipag,  pY]sXco£,  0)$,  xavisc popa, 
v.ai  Travxes  Y]a%oTst;  it  must  be  hung  to  the  neck  by  a 
thread;  and  if  both  the  patient  and  operator  are  in  a  state 

of  chastity,  it  will  stop  inveterate  inflammation . Blood 

may  be  staunched  by  the  words  sicycuma ,  cucuma,  ucuma , 
cuma,  uma,  ma ,  a.”  2  Alexander  Trallianus  gave  the 
following  prescription  for  quotidian  ague:  “Gather  an 
olive  leaf  before  sunrise,  write  on  it  in  common  ink  xa,  pot, 
a,  ana  hang  it  round  the  neck.”  “For  gout,  write  on  a 
thin  plate  of  gold,  during  the  waning  of  the  moon,  pet, 
ffpsu,  pop,  c pc5p,  isuF,  £a,  £wv,  Xotf,  ypl,  ys,  £!,  wv,  and 
wear  it  round  the  ankles;  pronouncing  also  ta£,  a£ucp,  ^uwv, 
frpsog,  patv,  x.wwx.”3  Morley,  in  his  “Life  of  Cornelius 

1  Erman,  “Life  in  Ancient  Egypt/'  pp.  352—353.  2  Cockayne, “Saxon 
Leechdoms,”  I,  Preface,  pp.  XXIX— XXX.  3  Smith,  “Dictio¬ 
nary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography  and  Mythology,”  I,  p.  127. 


216  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Agrippa,”  records  that  rabbi  Hama  used  to  give  his  people 
a  sacred  seal  with  divine  names  written  in  Hebrew,  which 
he  declared  would  cure  not  only  all  kinds  of  sickness,  but 
heal  all  kinds  of  grief.1  The  same  writer  says  that  the  first 
Psalm,  when  written  on  doeskin,  was  regarded  by  certain 
persons  of  that  time  as  a  help  to  women  in  childbirth.2 
After  the  death  of  Pascal,  a  billet  of  writing  was  found 
sewed  to  his  clothing.  This  was  a  “profession  of  faith,” 
which  he  always  wore  as  a  charm  or  amulet.  It  was 
thought  that  Pascal  attached  the  “profession  of  faith” 
to  every  new  garment  he  bought.3 

It  is  said  that  some  of  the  Jews  believed  Jesus  had 
learned  the  Mirific  Word  (true  pronounciation  of  the 
name  of  God),  and  by  the  use  of  that  fetich 
wrought  his  wonderful  cures.  In  Jewish  belief,  this 
word  stirred  all  the  angels  and  ruled  all  creatures.4 
In  the  Book  of  Acts,  St.  Paul  is  represented  as 
casting  out  daimons  and  healing  disease  in  the  name 
of  Jesus.  Some  Jewish  exorcists,  stimulated  by  the 
success  of  St.  Paul,  took  upon  themselves  to  name 
the  name  of  Jesus,  saying,  “6px££co  6pta?  xdv  TqaoOv 
SvIIauXos  xYjptiaaet.”  And  the  evil  spirit  answered, “xdv  IyjcjoOv 
YtYV&axto  xoci  IlauXov  £iu'axa|iai,  6[isT<;  xtvec;  s axe;”  and  the 
man  having  the  unclean  spirit  drove  them  from  the  house.5 

1  Op.  cit.,  I,  p.  191. 

2  Ibid.,  I,  p.  81. 

3  “Thoughts  of  Blaise  Pascal/'  Wright’s  Translation  p.  2. 

4  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  265. 

5  Acts,  19  :  13-16.  Translation:  “I  adjure  thee  by  Jesus  whom 
Paul  preaches.  And  the  spirit  answered,  Jesus  I  know  and 
Paul  I  have  believed,  but  who  art  thou?” 


ch .vi  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  217 


Here  the  belief  in  dualism  is  plainly  indicated.  St.  Paul 
succeeded  by  the  help  of  the  mightier  spirit;  the  exorcists, 
lacking  that  spirit,  failed.  Alexander  Trallianus  is  said  to 
have  used  this  formula  for  exorcising  gout:  UI  adjure 
thee  by  the  great  name  ’law  Sapatofr’:  that  is 
HirV;  and  again,  ‘ I  adjure  thee  by  the  holy  names  ’law 
Sapawfr  ’ASwvaE  ’EW:  that  is  ni*q¥  HilT  1 

Here  the  survival  of  the  primitive  idea  of  exorcism  by 
means  of  the  spirit-filled  word  is  too  obvious  to  require 
comment. 

This  chapter  cannot  fittingly  be  brought  to  a  close 
without  fuller  discussion  of  one  therapeutic  agency  which 
was  initiated  by  the  medicine  man,  and  is  applied  at  the 
present  day  by  successful  practitioners  in  all  parts  of  the 
world.  The  power  of  suggestion  is  as  old  as  humanity. 
All  nervous  tissue  is  characterized  by  amenability  to  its 
laws.  But  Mr.  Samuel  L\  Clemens  shot  wide  of  the  mark 
when  he  said,  “The  Christian  Scientist  has  taken  a  force 
which  has  been  lying  idle  in  every  member  of  the  race  since 
the  world  began.”  2  That  force  was  discovered  long  before 
the  time  of  Mary  Baker  Eddy.  The  medicine  man,  in  his 
capacity  of  intermediary  between  gods  and  men,  lighted 
upon  it,  and  far  from  lying  idle,  it  has  been  active 
in  tepee,  at  shrine  and  tomb,  in  temples  and  churches,  for 
thousands  of  years. 

1  Smith,  “Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography  and  Mytho¬ 
logy,”  I,  p.  127.  Translation:  Taw  Sapawfr  =  Jehovah  of  Sabbath; 

JTiiT  =  Jehova  of  Sabbath.  Tad)  2a£ad>fr,  ’ASwvai  ’EXoot  = 
Jehovah  of  Sabbath,  Lord,  God.  nitOlt  Hi  IT  =  Jeho- 

vah  of  Sabbath,  Lord,  God. 

2  Mark  Twain,  “Christian  Science,”  p.  86. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


218 


To  take  the  method  of  propitiation,  by  way  of 
illustration,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  primitive  patient 
acquires  ease  of  mind  and  conscience  by  the  assurance  that 
the  angry  gods  have  been  appeased,  that  he  need  no 
longer  worry,  his  recovery  being  most  certain ;  that  even  if 
he  dies,  that  will  be  still  greater  proof  that  the  gods  are  no 
longer  angry,  for  not  only  will  the  daimon  of  disease 
have  been  expelled,  but  the  sick  man  will  have  been  taken 
to  a  far  better  place  than  the  one  in  which  he  is  at 
present.1  His  mind  thus  being  soothed  and  calmed  by  the 
infusion  of  hope  and  comfort,  it  is  useless  to  deny  that  the 
mental  state  of  the  patient  is  far  more  conducive  to  recovery 
than  if  he  were  beset  with  doubts  and  fears  about  the  present 
and  future.  There  is  an  old  aphorism  that  happiness  is 
the  best  of  tonics.  This  is  just  as  true  for  primitive  as 
for  civilized  man ;  and  physicians  are  aware  that  the 
presence  of  hope  in  cases  of  sickness  is  as  influential  for 
the  good  of  the  patient  as  despair  is  influential  for  harm. 
It  is  not  intended  to  assert  that  the  medicine  man 
consciously  acts  on  the  principle  of  suggestion,  and  so 
induces  a  mental  attitude  that  leads  to  recovery.  It  has 
already  been  said,  on  the  contrary,  that  he  is  unacquainted 
with  such  ideas  as  this  word  expresses.2  But  it 
is  maintained  that  the  savage  doctor,  whether  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  initiated  a  method  of  healing  which 
charlatans  have  applied  from  time  immemorial,  and  which 
every  progressive  present  day  practitioner  legitimately  uses 
as  an  adjunct  to  his  profession.  When  a  physician  of 

1  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  413. 

2  Vide  p.  43. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


219 


former  times  was  summoned  to  the  bedside  of  a  patient,  he 
entered  the  room  with  a  serious  expression  on  his 
countenance,  told  the  sick  man  that  he  was  indeed  very 
ill,  and  often  spoke  of  death  and  of  the  judgment  to  come, 
thus  having  the  effect  of  lowering  the  spirits  of  the 
individual,  and  of  rendering  less  efficacious  the  measures 
and  remedies  applied.  A  modern  physician  comes  with  a 
cheerful  mien,  and  with  a  note  of  confidence,  positively 
assures  the  sick  man  that  he  will  get  well.  There  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  under  such  conditions  the  power  of 
the  mind  over  the  body  asserts  itself  with  the  result  of 
raising  the  morale  of  the  patient.  And  when  the  morale  of 
a  sick  person  is  raised,  that  in  itself  is  no  small  contri¬ 
bution  towards  his  recovery.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
Christian  Science,  working  on  the  same  principle, 
brightens  the  passing  moments  of  some  persons 
who  have  no  object  in  life,  and  who  have  no  other 
occupation  than  that  of  evoking  pains  and  ailments  by 
thinking  about  themselves.  Neither  can  it  be  gainsaid 
that  the  cult  of  Mrs.  Eddy,  by  forbidding  its  adherents  to 
speak,  or  even  think,  of  symptoms,  “nerves,”  sickness,  or 
pain,  conduces  to  a  healthy  mental  attitude,  the  possession 
of  which  is  a  priceless  boon  to  any  man  or  women. 

With  regard  to  exorcism,  it  is  related  that  among  the 
Araucanians,  the  medicine  man,  having  brought  on  a  state 
of  trance,  real  or  pretended,  during  which  he  is  supposed 
to  have  been  in  communication  with  the  spirits,  declares, 
on  his  recovery,  the  nature  and  seat  of  the  malady,  and 
proceeds  to  dose  the  patient;  and  he  also  manipulates 
the  part  affected  until  he  succeeds  in  extracting  the  cause 


220 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


of  the  sickness,  which  he  exhibits  in  triumph.  This  is 
generally  a  spider,  a  toad,  or  some  reptile,  which  he  had 
carefully  concealed  about  his  person.1  It  is  not  surprising 
that  the  superior  mind  of  the  healer  often  constrains 
the  more  obtuse  mind  of  the  patient  to  believe  that  the 
daimon  has  been  expelled  from  him,  and,  according  to 
his  faith  so  be  it  unto  him.  Nearly  every  doctor  of  medicine 
has  witnessed  the  effect  of  a  hypodermic  injection  of  water 
in  soothing  a  restless  patient  to  sleep.2  The  story  has  it 
that  Mary  Baker  Eddy,  in  early  life,  attended  a  typhoid 
patient.  Near  the  crisis,  the  medicine,  a  saline  solution  of 
high  potency,  ran  short,  and  in  order  to  make  it  last  until 
the  doctor  came,  the  solution  was  diluted  from  time  to  time 
with  water,  until  no  perceptible  taste  remained.  This 
continuously  weakened  solution  was  given  in  teaspoonful 
doses,  frequently  repeated,  and  the  patient  continued  to  im¬ 
prove.  The  patient,  in  other  words,  was  benefited  by  taking 
medicine  which  had  lost  its  virtue.3  Harriet  Martineau,  an 
exceedingly  strong-minded  woman,  was  restored  to  health 
by  means  of  mesmerism,  after  long  disablement  by  a 
pelvic  tumor.  The  tumor  was  found  in  her  body  after 
death,  but  what  of  that?  It  had  ceased  to  give  her  any 
trouble,  and,  therefore,  for  all  practical  purposes  she  may 
be  reckoned  as  having  been  cured.  Brodie  restored  many 
patients  who  were  sick  in  bed  by  the  simple  process 
of  bidding  them  get  up  and  walk.4 

1  Smith,  “Araucanians,”  p.  236. 

2  Brit.  Med.  Jour.,  June  1910,  p.  1483. 

3  Dietetic  and  Hygienic  Gazette,  May  1911,  p.  301. 

4  Brit.  Med.  Jour.,  June  1910,  p.  1483. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


221 


There  can  be  no  question  that  the  medicine  man  often 
succeeds  in  bringing  about  the  recovery  of  the  sick  by 
influencing  the  mind,  which  in  turn  influences  the  body. 
Bourke  writes,  “The  monotonous  intonation  of  the  savage 
doctor  is  not  without  good  results,  especially  in  such 
ailments  as  can  be  benefited  by  sleep,  which  such  singing 
induces.  On  the  same  principle  that  babies  are  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  crooning  of  their  nurses,  the  sick  will 
frequently  be  composed  to  a  sound  and  beneficial  slumber, 
from  which  they  awake  refreshed  and  invigorated.  I  can 
recall,  among  other  cases,  those  of  Chaundizi  and 
Chemihuevi,  both  chiefs  of  the  Apache,  who  recovered 
under  the  treatment  of  their  own  medicine  men  after  our 
surgeons  had  abandoned  the  case.  This  recovery  could 
be  attributed  only  to  the  sedative  effects  of  the  chanting.”  1 
Mooney  writes  as  follows  to  the  same  effect:  “The  faith  of 
the  patient  has  much  to  do  with  his  recovery,  for  the  Indian 
has  the  same  implicit  confidence  in  the  shaman  that  the 
child  has  in  a  more  intelligent  physician.  The  ceremonies 
are  well  calculated  to  inspire  this  feeling,  and  the  effect 
thus  produced  upon  the  mind  of  the  sick  man  undoubtedly 
reacts  favorably  upon  his  physical  organization.” 2 
Cockayne,  in  the  preface  to  “Saxon  Leechdoms,”  after 
speaking  of  the  effect  on  the  mind  of  the  patient  of 
exorcisms,  prayers,  sacrifices,  conjurations,  incantations, 
the  use  of  charms  and  amulets,  and  other  methods  of  treat- 

1  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  pp. 
464-465. 

2  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII, 
p.  323. 


222 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


ment  of  the  primitive  doctor,  adds:  “The  reader  may  enjoy 
his  laugh  at  such  devices,  but  let  him  remember  that  dread 
of  death  and  wakeful  anxiety  must  be  hushed  by  some 
means,  for  they  are  very  unfriendly  to  recovery  from 
disease.”  1 

In  the  cures  of  the  medicine  man,  the  hidden  forces 
which  produced  the  effect  were  in  the  patients  themselves. 
The  healing  agency,  be  it  medicine  man,  priest,  or  what 
not,  was  only  the  motive  power  that  brought  those  forces 
into  play.  Of  the  nature  and  method  of  working  of  those 
forces,  the  medicine  man  had  no  idea.  But  modern 
scientists  know  very  little  more  than  the  primitive 
doctor.  The  shaman  unwittingly  and  unintentionally  dis¬ 
covered  and  made  use  of  those  forces  in  spite  of  his  illusory 
major  premise.  In  effecting  cures,  his  theory  was  to  coerce 
the  spirits.  In  recoveries  of  the  same  kind,  the  present  theory 
is  that  faith  is  the  active  agent.  When  the  desired  result  is 
brought  about,  it  is,  regardless  of  theory,  his  faith 
that  makes  the  patient  whole.  It  is  said  by 
neurologists  that  in  cases  where  nerve  power  is 
deficient  there  is  no  more  potent  agent  to  operate  in  the 
interest  of  a  sick  person  than  his  own  faith.  Future 
generations,  perhaps,  may  discover  the  theory  of  the 
twentieth  century  to  have  been  as  fallacious  as  that  of  the 
medicine  man.  But  there  never  can  be  any  doubt  that 
in  both  cases  remarkable  achievements  have  been  attained. 

SUMMARY.  It  has  been  found  that  the  first  conception  of 
man  concerning  disease  was  that  evil  spirits  had  taken 

1  Cockayne,  “Saxon  Leechdoms,”  I,  Preface,  p.  XI. 


ch.vi  METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN  223 


possession  of  the  body.1  This  general  notion  expressed 
itself  in  different  ways.  After  centuries  of  growth, 
experience,  and  intellectual  development,  man  invoked 
special  daimons  as  the  explanation  of  diseases  of  the  more 
pronounced  and  individualized  type.  The  Hindus  had 
temples  dedicated  to  the  goddess  of  small-pox,  and  the 
Romans  had  at  least  three  shrines  set  apart  to  the  goddess 
of  fever,  which,  no  doubt,  was  malaria.  Lineal  descendants 
of  these  shrines  are  found  in  Christendom.  In  the  Middle 
Ages,  for  example,  it  was  believed  that  St.  Benedict 
interested  himself  in  disease  of  the  bladder,  while  hemor¬ 
rhoids  and  other  affections  of  the  lower  intestines  were  the 
specialty  of  St.  Fiacre,  whose  relics  were  brought  to  the 
bedside  of  Richelieu,  mortally  ill  with  cancer  of  the  rectum. 
At  the  present  day,  in  the  city  of  Rome,  there  is  a 
Church  dedicated  to  Our  Lady  of  Fever.2  The  spirit  notion 
of  the  causation  of  disease  led  naturally  to  a  system  of 
treatment,  directed,  when  the  conception  of  the  spirits  was 
that  of  hostility,  to  the  avoidance  or  expulsion  of  the 
daimon  intruder;  and,  when  they  came  to  be  regarded  as 
well  disposed  towards  men,  to  a  propitiation  of  the  unseen 
powers.  In  the  latter  case,  when  sickness  increased  and 
abounded,  it  was  thought  that  the  gods  had  grown  angry 
with  their  votaries.  The  only  thing  to  do  under  such 
circumstances  was  to  pacify  and  propitiate  the  angry  spirits. 
Primitive  man  in  this  acted  towards  his  divinities  just 
as  he  would  act  towards  earthly  superiors  whose 

1  Vide  pp.  7-17. 

2  Brit.  Med.  Jour.,  Nov.  1909,  p.  1549. 


224  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


displeasure  he  had  incurred.  No  new  sentiment  or  line 
of  action  was  introduced.  Food,  clothing,  drink,  incense, 
servants,  wives,  and  other  material  possessions  were  offered 
as  sacrifices  to  the  powers  of  heaven  to  appease  their  anger, 
and  render  them  well  disposed  towards  the  patient.  Acts 
of  propitiation  consisted  also  of  attitudes  and  language 
expressive  of  subordination  on  the  part  of  the  suppliant,  in 
addition  to  the  exaltation  of  the  deities.  From  the  positive 
method  of  the  medicine  man  in  dealing  with  spirits  originated 
therapeutic  agencies  which  have  been  applied  in  all 
subsequent  ages  of  the  history  of  the  world,  for  example, 
prayer,  incantation,  conjuration,  and  blood-letting.  The  last 
named  device  was  later  rationalized,  and  used  with  a 
definite  purpose  in  view.  At  the  present  day  it  is  applied 
by  the  most  progressive  of  physicians  in  cases  of  apoplexy, 
pneumonia,  typhoid  fever,  and  other  complaints.1  The 
method  of  avoidance  or  exorcism,  or  the  negative  method 
of  the  medicine  man  in  dealing  with  spirits,  was  found  to 
consist  in  making  the  usurped  abode  of  the  disease  daimon 
as  unpleasant  as  possible.  To  that  end  the  patient 
was  beaten,  starved,  drenched  with  every  foul  con¬ 
coction  that  the  savage  could  imagine,  and  was 
smoked  with  evil  smelling  substances ;  his  body  was 
pounded  and  kneaded;  and  frequently  suction  was  used 
in  order  to  extract  the  evil  spirit.  The  fumigation  treatment 
is  illustrated  by  the  story  in  the  Apocrypha  in  which  Tobias 
is  said  to  have  freed  his  bride  from  a  daimon  by  putting 
the  heart  and  liver  of  fish  upon  ashes  and  making  a  smoke 

1  Reference  Hand  Book  to  the  Medical  Sciences,  II,  p.  199. 


CH.  VI 


METHODS  OF  MEDICINE  MAN 


225 


therewith,  “the  smell  when  the  evil  spirit  had  smelled, 
he  fled  into  the  utmost  part  of  Egypt.” 1  In  this  same 
connexion  it  was  pointed  out  that  some  of  the  methods 
of  exorcism  practiced  by  the  medicine  man  survive  even 
to  this  day,  though  with  a  different  interpretation.  The 
cupping  glass,  for  example,  belongs  to  uncivilized  peoples. 
Our  Indians  frequently  resorted  to  it.  Cupping,  as  applied 
in  the  twentieth  century,  accomplishes  exactly  what 
the  medicine  man  achieved  when  pretending  to  draw 
out  the  spirit  of  sickness  by  suction.  Kneading  the 
body,  which  has  rationalized  itself  into  massage, 
also  harks  back  to  shamanism.  In  the  matter  of 
medication,  too,  the  practice  of  making  the  body 
such  an  uncomfortable  habitat  that  the  diabolical  tenant 
would  not  remain,  persisted  long  after  the  belief  on  which 
it  was  founded  had  ceased,  and  is  not  quite  extinct  at  the 
present  time.  The  horrible  concoctions  administered  by  the 
doctors  of  the  Middle  Ages  might  seem  to  have  had  for 
their  purpose  the  expulsion  of  evil  spirits,  and  the  faith  of 
the  modern  hospital  patient  in  the  efficacy  of  the 
medicine  given  is  often  in  direct  proportion  to  its  nastiness. 
The  disease  daimon  very  frequently  is  pretended  to 
be  driven  out  by  a  superior  spirit,  whose  assistance 
the  medicine  man  alone  knows  how  to  secure.  Amulets 
and  charms,  water  and  fire,  came  to  be  regarded  as 
fetiches,  because  they  were  believed  to  be  the  tem¬ 
porary  or  permanent  abodes  of  spirits.  Since  those 
fetiches  contained  powerful  spirits,  they  were  used 


1  Tobit,  6:9;  8:3. 


16 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


226 


in  warding  off,  and  in  banishing  inimical  beings. 
Hydrotherapy  and  cauterization  were  thus  initiated.1  The 
charm  or  amulet  is  often  a  root  or  herb  having  medicinal 
value  when  taken  internally.  In  some  cases  the  root  or 
herb  is  still  in  use  as  a  medicine,  although  entirely  apart 
from  any  magical  signification.  In  dualism  one  can  also 
discern  the  first  dawn  of  the  doctrine  of  signatures, 
cures  by  spells  and  like  expedients,  which  in  one  shape 
or  another,  still  to  a  large  extent  persist.  The  present 
day  explanation  of  cures  of  the  latter  description  is  that 
of  hypnotic  suggestion.  Suggestion  also  is  responsible 
for  the  success  of  Christian  Science,  mesmerism,  prayer 
cures,  and  faith  healing. 

So  it  was  that  primitive  man,  trying  to  secure  immunity 
from  the  ills  and  pains  of  life,  turned  for  relief  to  the 
special  representative  of  the  spirits  responsible,  according 
to  his  philosophy,  for  those  evils.  The  medicine  man, 
stimulated  by  a  desire  to  maintain,  retain,  and  fortify  his 
position,  did  his  utmost  to  bring  about  the  recovery  of 
the  sufferer.  He  groped  in  the  dark,  but  unwittingly, 
unintentionally,  and,  in  spite  of  wrong  theories,  he  often 
blundered  upon  scientific  truth.  In  not  a  few  cases  he 
possessed  some  knowledge  of  the  pathology  of  disease, 
and  used  a  variety  of  efficacious  remedies,  many  of  which 
have  come  into  general  use  throughout  the  civilized  world. 

1  Lippert,  “Kulturgeschichte,”  II,  p.  413. 


CHAPTER  VIT 


THE  HISTORY  OF  SOME  MEDICAL  REMEDIES. 

Cardinal  Newman  in  his  sermon  on  “The  World's 
Benefactors,"  asks,  “Who  first  discovered  the  medicinal 
herbs,  which  from  the  earliest  times  have  been  our 
resource  against  disease?  If  it  was  mortal  man  who 
thus  looked  through  the  vegetable  and  animal  worlds, 
and  discriminated  between  the  useful  and  the  worthless, 
his  name  is  unknown  to  the  millions  whom  he  has  thus 
benefited."1  Doctor  Benjamin  Barton,  in  his  “Collections 
for  an  Essay  toward  a  Materia  Medica  in  the  United 
States,"  says,  “The  man  who  discovers  one  valuable 
new  medicine  is  a  more  important  benefactor  to  his  species 
than  Alexander,  Caesar,  or  an  hundred  other  conquerors. 
Even  his  glory,  in  the  estimation  of  a  truly  civilized 
age,  will  be  greater,  and  more  lasting,  than  that  of  those 
admired  ravagers  of  the  world.  I  will  venture  to  go 
further.  All  the  splendid  discoveries  of  Newton  are  not 
of  so  much  real  utility  to  the  world  as  the  discovery  of 
the  Peruvian  bark,  or  of  the  powers  of  opium  and  mercury 
in  the  cure  of  certain  diseases.  If  the  distance  of  time  or 
the  darkness  of  history  did  not  prevent  us  from 
ascertaining  who  first  discovered  the  properties  of  the 
poppy,  that  ‘sweet  oblivious  antidote'  for  alleviating  pain, 

1  Newman,  “Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons,”  II,  p.  5. 


16* 


228 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


and  for  soothing,  while  the  memory  remains,  those  rooted 
sorrows  which  disturb  our  happiness ;  if  we  could  tell  who 
first  discovered  the  mighty  strength  of  mercury  in 
strangling  the  hydra  of  pleasures  of  generation;  if 
we  could  even  ascertain  who  was  the  native  of  Peru, 
that  first  experienced  and  revealed  to  his  countrymen 
the  powers  of  the  ‘bark’  in  curing  intermittent  fevers, 
would  not  the  civilized  nations  of  mankind,  with  one 
accord,  concur  in  erecting  durable  monuments  of  granite 
and  of  bronze  to  such  benefactors  of  the  species?”1 

Since  the  time  of  Newman  and  Barton,  science  has 
progressed  and  knowledge  has  increased.  A  new  science, 
indeed,  has  arisen— the  science  of  Anthropology — which  by 
disclosing,  through  a  process  of  induction,  the  truth  that 
man  universally  reacts  in  a  similar  manner  against  a  similar 
environment,  makes  it  unnecessary  to  remain  longer  in 
ignorance  as  to  the  discoverers  of  the  medicines  that  have 
been  of  incalculable  benefit  to  the  race.  This  is  not  saying 
that  it  is  possible  in  every  instance  to  learn  the  personal 
name  of  the  discoverer  of  each  particular  drug,  or  that  in 
the  case  of  every  article  that  has  gained  entrance  to  our 
present  official  materia  medica,  any  particular  person 
“looked  through  the  vegetable  and  animal  world  and 
discriminated  between  the  useful  and  the  worthless.” 
But  if  in  general  one  can  ascertain  the  manner  of  the 
origination  of  the  articles  which  Africa  and  America  supply 
to  our  pharmacopoeia, — since,  “the  same  natural  principle 
by  which  the  life  of  any  individual  epitomizes  the  life 

1  Op.  cit.,  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin,  No.  I,  p.  43. 


CH.  VII  the  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  229 


history  of  the  race,  from  its  lowest  stages  of  development 
to  the  highest,  applies  to  the  materia  medica  of  the  earth 
at  the  present  time,”  1 —  the  inference  is  justified  that  the 
articles  which  Europe  and  Asia  furnish,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  personal  name  of  the  discoverer  in  many 
instances  is  veiled  in  obscurity,  must  have  originated  in  the 
same  general  way. 

At  the  close  of  the  last  chapter  the  statement  was 
made  that  the  medicine  man,  in  his  efforts  to  propitiate 
or  exorcise  the  daimons  of  disease,  often  blundered  upon 
valuable  therapeutical  expedients,  the  value  of  which  is 
recognized  by  physicians  of  the  present  day.2  Some  of 
these  were  mentioned,  as  the  use  of  blood-letting,  fire, 
and  water,  expedients  which  later  generations  applied  with 
a  different  interpretation,  rationalizing  the  use  of  water  to 
banish  the  daimons  into  hydrotherapy,  the  use  of  fire 
into  cauterization,  and  blood-letting  into  venesection.3 
Speaking  of  the  efforts  of  the  medicine  man  to 
bring  about  the  recovery  of  his  patient,  and  of  his  theories 
and  practices  to  secure  that  end,  Mason  says:  “With  this 
knowledge  fully  before  us,  we  are  bound  to  own  that 
a  great  deal  of  experimental  medicine  and  surgery  were 
early  developed  in  spite  of  wrong  theories.  When  a 
Floridian  Indian  doctor  scarified  the  forehead  of  a  patient 
with  a  shell  and  sucked  therefrom  the  daimon  of  disease, 
he  was  really  cupping  and  leeching  his  sick  man.  When, 

1  True,  “Folk  Materia  Medica,”  Jour.  Am.  Folklore,  April  1901, 
p.  107. 

2  Vide  pp.  222  ff. 

3  Vide  pp.  180  ff. 


230 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


again,  he  compelled  the  patient  to  inhale  the  smoke  of 
tobacco  or  medicinal  herbs,  he  was  fumigating  him,  and 
unwittingly  discovering  a  little  in  bacteriology.  These  same 
doctors  had  found  out  purgatives,  and  emetics,  and 
astringents  to  drive  away  with  disgust  the  evil  spirits ; . . . 
but  the  disease  departed  quite  as  soon  for  them  as  for  us, 
when  the  proper  medicine  was  given.”  1 

This  statement  leads  to  a  consideration  of  the  origin 
of  what  were  in  all  probability  the  first  kinds  of  medicine, 
and  which,  according  to  Professor  Sumner,  constituted,  for 
a  time,  the  two  great  branches  of  the  healing  art,  namely, 
emetics  and  cathartics.  Mooney  says,  “Many  of  the 
Cherokees  tried  to  ward  off  disease  by  eating  the  flesh  of 
the  buzzard,  which  they  believed  to  enjoy  entire  immunity 
from  sickness,  owing  to  its  foul  smell,  which  keeps  the 
disease  spirits  at  a  distance.” 2  Spencer  writes,  “The 
primitive  medicine  man,  thinking  to  make  the  body  an 
intolerable  habitat  for  the  daimon,  exposed  his  patient 
to  this  or  that  kind  of  alarming,  painful,  or  disgusting 
treatment...  He  produced  under  his  nose  atrocious 
stenches,  or  made  him  swallow  the  most  abominable 
substances  he  could  think  of. . . .  Now  there  is  abundant 
proof  that,  not  only  during  medieval  days,  but  in  far 
more  recent  days,  the  efficiency  of  medicines  was  associated 
in  thought  with  their  disgustingness:  the  more  repulsive 
they  were,  the  more  effectual.” 3 

1  Mason,  “Origins  of  Invention,”  p.  203. 

2  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.,  1891, 
p.  334. 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  pp.  194 — 195. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  231 


It  is  the  purpose  here,  with  the  thought  of  disgust¬ 
ingness  in  mind,  to  direct  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
erroneous  idea  of  the  medicine  man  of  banishing  the 
intruder  by  this  means  led  to  the  discovery  of 
really  efficacious  remedies.  For  in  his  administra¬ 
tion  of  vile-smelling  and  vile-tasting  substances,  he 
must,  sooner  or  later,  have  lighted  upon  a  root 
or  herb,  which,  when  taken  internally,  would  produce 
nausea  and  vomiting.  In  some  kinds  of  ailment,  the 
stomach  being  thus  rid  of  the  toxins  responsible  for  the 
disorder,  relief  would  follow.  Ethnography  furnishes  no 
specific  instance  indicating  that  emetics  originated  in  this 
way.  A  quotation,  however,  from  the  “Pharmacologia”  of 
Paris  might  go  to  show  that  scatalogic  remedies  yielded 
useful  results  in  spite  of  wrong  theories.  It  is  as  follows: 
“Among  the  poor  of  England,  labor-pains  used  to  be 
thought  to  be  accelerated  by  a  draught  of  the  urine  of  the 
husband,  and  horse  dung  infused  with  wine  was  thought 
efficacious  in  expelling  the  placenta.  But  these  produced 
the  desired  effect— or  vomiting.”1  Since  the  ghost  theory 
was  responsible  for  scatalogic  methods  of  treatment,  and 
these,  in  cases  of  tocology,  were  productive  of  good 
results,  though  not  in  the  way  they  were  sought,  the 
inference  is  plain  that  the  medicine  man,  working  on  the 
same  theory,  and,  therefore,  thinking  to  disgust  the  spirit 
by  subjecting  the  patient  to  nauseous  treatment,  would, 
from  the  very  nature  of  things,  administer  a  plant  or 
root,  which,  although  not  driving  out  any  daiinon  usurper, 

1  Op.  cit.,  I,  p.  33. 


232 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


would  cause  improperly  digested  food  to  be  expelled  to  the 
relief  of  the  patient.  The  primitive  doctor  would  no  doubt 
continue  to  use  the  treatment  with  the  magical  purpose  in 
view.  But  as  long  as  he  gave  the  proper  medicine,  good 
results  would  follow  regardless  of  his  theory.  As  societies 
grew,  arts  multiplied,  and  knowledge  increased,  wiser  men 
would  perceive  that  the  root  or  herb  produced  physio¬ 
logical  rather  than  animistic  effects,  and  henceforth  that 
remedy  would  be  applied  for  a  different  purpose. 

Bartels,  writing  along  the  same  line,  states  that  while 
the  use  of  emetics  is  well  known  to  primitive  tribes,  the 
reason  for  taking  a  substance  which  produces  vomitory 
effects  is  not  always  medical,  but  sometimes  prophylactic 
and  even  ritualistic.1  At  the  medicine  dance  of  the  Navaho 
Indians  in  Arizona,  every  member  of  the  tribe  who  wished 
to  enter  the  medicine-hut  had  to  take  an  emetic  composed 
of  fifteen  kinds  of  plants,  and  had  to  vomit  on  a  little 
pile  of  earth  which,  after  certain  ceremonies,  was 
carried  out  of  the  hut.2  It  would  seem,  in  this 
case,  that  vomiting  was  considered  a  necessary  preparation 
for  the  person  who  desired  to  approach  the  god.3 
The  coast  Indians  of  southern  Alaska  are  said  to  prepare 
themselves  in  a  similar  manner  for  ordeals  and  other 
religious  ceremonies.4  According  to  Myron  Ells,  the 
medicine  man  of  the  Twana  Indians,  before  he  began  to 

treat  a  sick  man,  was  accustomed  to  take  an  emetic,5 

1  Bartels,  *‘Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  121. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  122. 

3  Ibid.,  p.  122. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  122. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  122. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  233 


apparently  with  the  idea  of  rendering  himself  fit  to 
come  near  the  gods.  These  instances  are  mentioned  not 
because  they  throw  any  light  on  the  probable  origin  of 
the  use  of  emetics,  but  in  order  to  show  that  savage  tribes 
understand  that  certain  plants  and  roots  have  vomitory 
properties,  and,  in  the  second  place,  because  their 
administration  is  sometimes  connected  with  religion. 

As  to  the  prophylactic  use  of  emetics,  it  is  said  that 
among  the  Karayas,  vomiting  with  this  end  in  view  is 
provoked  daily,  and  that  the  same  custom  is  found  in 
Ecuador.1  Berdoe  remarks,  in  this  connexion,  that  “even 
the  healthy  among  the  Hindus  were  advised  to  be  bled 
twice  a  year,  to  take  a  purgative  once  a  month,  and  to 
take  an  emetic  once  a  fortnight.”  2 

Among  primitive  men,  however,  emetics  are  also 
taken  for  a  physiological  reason.  Bourke  writes, 
“All  Indians  know  the  benefit  derived  from  relieving  an 
overloaded  stomach,  and  resort  to  titillation  of  the  fauces 
with  a  feather  to  induce  nausea.  I  have  seen  a  Zuni  take 
great  draughts  of  luke  warm  water,  and  then  practice 
the  above  as  a  remedy  in  dyspepsia.” 3  The  Heidah 
Indians,  and  some  tribes  of  the  islands  of  the  Pacific, 
use  sea  water  for  this  purpose.4  Among  certain  tribal 
groups,  emetics  are  given  in  case  of  stomach  troubles,  and 
also  in  some  infectious  diseases.5  By  some  of  our  Indians 

this  expedient  was  used  in  order  to  remove  poisons  from 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvdlker,”  p.  121. 

2  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  106. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth.,  IX,  p.  471. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  121. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  123. 


234 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  stomach.1  The  Dakotas  use  the  feather  of  a  bird 
with  which  to  tickle  the  fauces  and  thus  induce  vomiting.2 
Other  savage  tribes  have  discovered  that  decoctions  made 
from  certain  vegetables  have  a  vomitory  effect.3 

It  would  be  inexpedient  to  attempt  the  history  of  every 
article  classified  in  the  materia  medica  of  the  present  day 
as  an  emetic.  A  better  plan  would  seem  to  take  the 
case  of  a  single  drug,  sketch  in  so  far  as  possible  an 
account  of  its  origin  and  history,  and  allow  it  to  stand 
as  a  typical  example  of  other  remedies  of  its  class.  This 
section,  therefore,  will  be  limited  to  a  discussion  of  a 
drug  than  which  a  better  could  not  be  chosen  as  a 
representative  of  its  kind,  namely,  Cephaelis  Ipecacuanha. 
The  habitat  of  the  drug  is  Brazil.  According  to  Tylor, 
“ipecacuanha”  “is  a  Brazilian  word  and  is  descriptive 
of  the  nature  of  the  drug:  ipe-caa-goene  means  little 
wayside-plant-emetic.” 4  The  word  “cephaelis”  is  derived 
from  the  Greek  xscpaXyj,  and  signifies  a  head.5  The  plant 

i 

grows  most  abundantly  in  the  province  of  Matto  Grosso, 
Brazil,6  and  the  root  is  dug  throughout  the  year,  but 
“especially  in  the  months  of  January  and  February,  when  it 
is  in  bloom.”  7  Before  being  administered  as  an  emetic,  in  this 
country  at  least,  the  root  is  ground  to  powder,  and  Lloyd, 
quoting  Lewis,  says  that  ‘“in  pulverizing  considerable 
quantities,  the  finer  powder  that  flies  off,  unless  great  care 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  123. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Tylor,  “Anthropology,”  p.  330. 

5  Lloyd,  “C.  Ipecacuanha,”  Western  Druggist,  August  1897,  p.  2. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  6.  7  Ibid.,  p.  5. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  235 


be  taken  to  avoid  it,  is  apt  to  afflict  the  operator  with 
difficulty  of  breathing,  spitting  of  blood,  and  bleeding  at 
the  nose,  or  swelling  and  inflammation  of  the  eyes  and 
face,  and  sometimes  of  the  throat,  adding  that  these 
symptoms  disappear  in  a  few  days,  either  spontaneously 
or  by  the  assistance  of  venesection.”’ 1  As  in  the 
case  of  blood-letting,2  the  discovery  of  the  medicinal 
properties  of  ipecacuanha  has  been  traced  to  a  medical 
beast  story,  which  has  it  that  the  South  American 
Indians  gained  their  experience  of  its  virtues  from 
observing  the  habits  of  animals.3  This  story  must  likewise 
be  relegated  to  the  realm  of  myth  and  fable,  thereby 
giving  place  to  the  more  natural  and  credible  explanation 
that  a  medicine  man  of  a  former  generation,  in  his  ambition 
to  disgust  an  evil  spirit,  at  some  time  happened  to  ad¬ 
minister  the  ipecacuanha  root.  That  was  the  right  medicine 
in  certain  cases  and  so  afforded  relief.  The  fact  that  the 
patient  was  benefited  would  be  sufficient  to  impress 
upon  the  mind  of  the  primitive  doctor  the  expediency 
of  resorting  to  the  use  of  the  root  on  future  occasions. 
He  would  transmit  the  knowledge  of  its  habitat  and 
ghost  compelling  power  to  future  generations  until  at 
length  its  physiological  effects  were  perceived  and  grasped. 
In  a  work  called  “His  Pilgrimes,”  published  in  London 
by  Samuel  Purchas,  in  1625,  there  is  probably  the  first 
historical  mention  of  ipecacuanha  root.4  This  is  a  work 

1  Lloyd,  “C.  Ipecacuanha,”  Western  Druggist,  August  1897,  p.  9. 

2  Vide  pp.  183—184. 

3  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  49. 

4  Ibid. 


236 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


of  five  volumes,  and  contains  accounts  of  travels,  together 
with  the  natural  history  of  foreign  countries,  purported  to 
have  been  written  by  a  number  of  different  authors.  From 
a  treatise  on  Brazil,  said  to  have  been  penned  by  a 
Jesuit  Father,  named  Manoel  Tristaon,  who  declared  he 
had  lived  for  a  long  time  in  that  country,  the  following 
is  quoted:  “Igpecaya  or  pigaya  is  profitable  for  the  bloudie 
fluxe.  The  stalk  is  a  quarter  long  and  the  roots  of 
another  or  more,  it  hath  only  foure  or  five  leaves,  it 
smelleth  much  wheresoever  it  is,  but  the  smell  is  strong 
and  terrible.”  1  According  to  Fliickiger  and  Handbury, 
the  “igpecaya”  thus  described  by  Tristaon  in  1625,  was  no 
doubt  the  drug  now  known  as  ipecacuanha.2  A  work 
entitled  “Historia  Nauralia  Brasiliae”  was  published  in 
Amsterdam,  in  1648,  by  the  traveller  Piso.,  one  chapter  of 
which  is  devoted  to  a  discussion  of  ipecacuanha.  The  author 
speaks  of  two  kinds  of  plants,  which  have  a  similar  use, 
but  which  differ  in  appearance.  The  root  of  one  species, 
he  sa}^s,  is  white  in  color,  but  the  root  of  “Callicocca 
Ipecacuanha”  is  thin,  tortuous,  and  of  a  brownish  color. 
“In  powder  the  dose  is  one  drachm;  in  liquid  the  natives 
take  two  or  more  drachms.  They  use  it  as  a  purgative 
as  well  as  an  emetic,  and  nothing  in  that  land  could  be 
found  better  for  bloody  flux.”  He  further  adds  that  the 
“natives  prefer  to  use  the  liquid  which  they  prepare  as 
follows:  They  macerate  the  root  and  put  it  in  water.  After 
some  time  has  elapsed  they  pour  off  and  use  the  liquid. 

1  Purchas,  “His  Pilgrimes,”  IV,  p.  1311. 

2  Fliickiger  and  Handbury,  “Pharmacographia,”  p.  370. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  237 


The  residue  they  put  through  the  same  process  again,  but 
the  resulting  preparation  is  better  suited  to  act  as  an 
astringent  than  as  a  purgative  or  emetic.”  Piso  then 
dwells  on  the  therapeutic  virtues  of  the  root — it  detaches 
morbific  matter  from  diseased  places,  and  restores,  by 
virtue  of  its  astringent  qualities,  tonicity  to  the  organs. 
Because  of  its  emetic  properties  the  drug  removes  poison 
from  the  system.  The  author  closes  by  saying  that  the 
Brazilians  preserve  the  root  with  religious  earnestness, 
and  that  they  were  the  first  people  to  reveal  its  medicinal 
qualities.1  According  to  Lloyd,  the  yellow  species  thus 
referred  to  is  the  ipecacuanha  which  today  is  recognized  as 
official.2  The  drug,  however,  was  not  employed  in  Europe 
until  1672.  At  that  date  a  travelling  physician  named  Le 
Gras  sold  a  quantity  to  a  druggist  in  Paris.3  Pomet, 
writing  about  that  time,  says,  “I  remember  there  was  a 
quantity  [of  ipecacuanha]  in  the  shop  of  M.  Claquenelle,”  a 
Parisian  apothecary,  “which  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  son-in- 
law,  M.  Poulain,  who  was  likewise  an  apothecary.” 4  Butin 
those  days  such  large  doses  were  given  that  medicinally 
the  drug  was  a  failure.  In  1680,  a  merchant  named  Gamier 
brought  one  hundred  fifty  pounds  of  the  root,  obtained 
in  Spain,  to  Paris,  and  to  insure  its  sale,  enlisted  the  aid 
of  a  Dutch  physician,  J.  A.  Helvetius,  (a  graduate  of  the 
university  of  Rheims,  and  grandfather  of  the  author  of  the 

book  “De  PEsprit”), 5  who  extensively  advertised  the  drug 

1  Op.  cit. ,  chap.  LXV,  pp.  101  —  102. 

2  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  50 

3  Merat  et  De  Lens,  “Diet,  de  Mat.  Med.,”  II,  p.  465. 

4  Pomet,  “Hist.  Drugs,”  p.  47. 

5  Merat  et  De  Lens,  “Diet  de  Mat.  Med.,”  II,  pp.  464—465. 


238 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


under  the  name  of  “radix  antidysenterica,”  keeping  its 
origin,  however,  a  secret.  The  remedy  soon  gained  such 
reputation  that  Minister  Colbert  ordered  that  it  have 
official  trial  in  the  municipal  hospital  of1  Paris.1  The 
complete  success  of  its  use  having  been  demon¬ 
strated,  no  less  a  person  than  the  dauphin  being 
benefited  by  the  drug,  Louis  XIV  purchased  the 
secret  from  Helvetius  for  a  thousand  louis  d’or,  and 
reserved  to  himself  the  exclusive  right  of  selling  it.2 
His  physician,  Antonia  d'Aquin,  and  his  confessor, 
Frangois  de  Lachaise,  meanwhile,  had  used  their  influence 
to  induce  the  king  to  acquire  possession  of  the  remedy 
because  they  desired  that  the  public  might  obtain 
it  as  cheaply  as  possible.3  Gamier  maintained  that 
Helvetius  had  no  right  to  all  the  profits  of  the  transaction, 
and  brought  suit  to  obtain  his  share.  The  case  went  to 
court,  the  Chatelet  of  Paris  deciding  in  favor  of  Hel¬ 
vetius.4  The  reputation  of  the  medicament  being  established 
in  France  it  was  introduced  by  Leibniz  (1695)  and  by 
Valentini  (1698)  into  Germany,  and  by  Friedrich  Dekker, 
in  1694,  into  Holland.5  During  the  first  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century  the  drug  obtained  good  repute  in 
various  parts  of  Germany,  it  being,  for  instance,  an  article 
of  “the  authoritative  drug  list  of  the  Silesian  town  of 
Strehlen  in  1724.”  6  During  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century  it  became  customary  “to  designate  as  ipecacuanha 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  50. 

2  Merat  et  De  Lens,  “Diet.  Mat.  Med.,”  ii,  pp.  464—465. 

3  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  50. 

1  Ibid.  5  Ibid.  6  Ibid.,  p.  51. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  239 


any  emetic  plant,  regardless  of  its  botanical  origin,” 
and  for  that  reason  “the  characteristics  of  the  plant 
furnishing  the  true  ipecacuanha  root  were  almost 
forgotten.” 1  For  some  cause  there  was  much  controversy, 
during  that  period,  regarding  the  advantages  of  the 
drug.2  About  1760,  “Dover's  Powder,”  a  combination  of 
ipecacuanha  and  opium,  was  introduced  by  Richard 
Brocklesby.3  In  1764,  a  celebrated  botanist  in  Santa  Fe 
de  Bogota,  Mutis  by  name,  sent  a  Peruvian  emetic  plant, 
which  he  thought  was  the  true  ,  ipecacuanha  root,  to 
Linnaeus.  The  latter,  believing  the  description  of  Piso 
regarding  the  true  plant  to  fit  the  specimen  sent  him  by 
Mutis,  “accepted  the  statement  of  Mutis  as  correct,” 
and  “in  1781  gave  it  the  name  Psychotria  Emetica, 
Mutis.”4  This  error  was  corrected  by  Doctor  Antonio 
Bernardino  Gomez,  who  in  1800  returned  to  Lisbon  from 
Brazil.  In  his  memoir  published  at  Lisbon  in  1801,  Gomez 
described  accurately  the  true  ipecacuanha  plant,  taking 
especial  pains  to  distinguish  it  from  Psychotria  Emetica, 
Mutis,  thus  re-establishing  “the  nearly  forgotten  botanical 
character  of  the  true  ipecacuanha.” 5  Gomez  gave  some 
specimens  of  the  plant  to  a  professor  of  botany  at  the 
university  of  Coimbra  named  Felix  Avellar  Brotero, 
who  published  an  account  of  it  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Linnean  Society  for  1802,  giving  it  the  name  Callicocca 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  51. 

2  Baas,  “Hist.  Medicine,”  p.  719. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  51. 

Ibid. 


240 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Ipecacuanha.1  In  1814,  a  botanist,  named  Hectot,  of  Nantes, 
secured  a  copy  of  the  essay  of  Gomez  which  he  passed  on  to 
M.  Tussac,  “and  the  latter  in  publishing  it,  gave  the  drugthe 
name  Cephaelis  Ipecacuanha,  also  laying  stress  on  its  distinc¬ 
tion  from  Psychotria  Emetica.”  2  In  1820,  a  Frenchman  by  the 
name  of  A.  Richard  wrote  a  paper  in  which  he  called  attention 
to  the  same  distinction,  but  without  giving  due  credit  to 
Gomez.  The  result  is  that  the  drug  is  sometimes  referred 
to  as  Cephaelis  Ipecacuanha,  A.  Richard.3  “The  Phar¬ 
macopoeia  Portugueze  of  1875  gives  credit  to  Dr.  Gomez 
for  his  part  in  re-establishing  the  botanical  source  of 
the  drug.”4  The  remedy  has  had  a  place  in  nearly  all 
pharmacopoeias  since  about  1750.5 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  medicine  man  or  priest- 
physician  in  attending  a  patient  whose  illness  was  due  to 
insufficient  excretion,  or  similar  cause,  would  sooner  or 
later  administer  a  noxious  substance,  which,  although  given 
with  the  intent  of  disgusting  the  spirit,  would  have  the 
effect  of  a  cathartic.  Under  some  circumstances,  that  would 
be  the  right  medicine,  and  the  patient  would  improve.  In 
this  way  the  origin  of  cathartics  is  explained.  The  ancient 
Egyptians  employed  aloes  to  exorcise  spirits G  by  means  of 
the  bitter  taste  and  smell.  The  beginning  of  the  use  of  this 
drug,  no  doubt,  goes  back  to  the  time  when  the  forefathers 
of  the  Egyptians  were  in  the  savage  state  and  had  medicine 

1  Trans.  Linn.  Soc.,  VI,  p.  140. 

2  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  51. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Lloyd,  ”C.  Ipecacuanha,”  Western  Druggist,  Aug.  1897,  p.  10. 

5  Ibid. 

Dyer,  “Folk  Lore  of  Plants,”  p.  77. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  241 


men.  From  its  chemical  composition  aloes,  when  taken 
internally,  had  the  same  effect  then  as  now,  regardless  of 
any  theory.  Primitive  and  semi-civilized  peoples  have  like¬ 
wise  discovered  other  ways  and  means  of  purging.  The 
Mincopies  on  the  Andaman  Islands,  in  case  of  con¬ 
stipation,  eat  the  larvae  of  the  bees  found  in  the 
honey-combs.1  The  Winnebago  Indians  use  as  a  purgative 
the  bark  of  the  white  elder,  if  scraped  off  by  the  medicine 
man  from  the  direction  of  the  branches  to  the  roots.2 
Sumner  quotes  Brunache  that  ‘“the  Togbos’  medical  treat¬ 
ment  for  babies  and  children  consisted  of  an  excessive  use 
of  purging,  by  means  of  a  clyster  with  infusion  of  herbs 
and  peanut  oil.”’  3  The  Bilqulas  use  shark-oil  as 

a  cathartic,  applying  it  by  means  of  a  sandal-wood 

pipe  to  which  the  wingbone  of  an  eagle  is  fixed.4 
The  Liberia  negroes  use  a  calabash  as  a  clyster.5  The 
Persians  for  a  clyster  use  a  very  high  funnel  to 
which  a  bent  pipe  is  fixed.  This  funnel  is  found  in 
every  Persian  home.  It  is  usually  made  of  glass, 
in  very  wealthy  families  of  silver,  and  may  be  dis¬ 
mounted  for  cleaning.  Those  people  have  very  com¬ 
plicated  prescriptions  for  carthartics.  No  Persian,  even 
among  ministers  of  state  and  high  court  officials, 

would  dare  transact  any  business  on  the  important 

day  when  he  takes  his  purgative.6  MacCauley  writes 

1  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvblker,”  p.  121. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Brunache,  “Cent.  Africa, n  p.  135.  Quoted  by  Sumner. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  120. 

5  Ibid.,  pp.  120—121. 

6  Ibid. 


17 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


242 


of  a  Seminole  festival  in  this  manner:  “The  evening 
of  the  first  day,  the  ceremonies  of  the  ‘black  drink' 
are  endured.  This  drink  is  said  to  have  a  nauseating 
smell  and  taste.  It  is  probably  a  mixture  similar  to  that 
used  by  the  Creeks  in  the  last  century  at  a  like  ceremony. 
It  acts  as  an  emetic  and  cathartic,  and  the  Indians  believe 
that  unless  one  drinks  it,  one  will  be  sick  at  some  time 
during  the  year." 1  “Some  of  the  southern  tribes" 
[of  the  North  American  continent],  according  to 
Catlin,  “make  a  bitter  and  sickening  drink,  called 
‘Asiyahola’  (the  black  drink),  which  they  drink  to 
excess  for  several  days  previous  to  the  green  corn 
feast.  Everything  is  ejected  from  their  stomachs  and 
intestines,  enabling  them  to  commence  with  green  corn 
upon  an  empty  stomach."  2 

The  use  made  of  castor  oil  as  a  cathartic  is  extensive. 
A  somewhat  detailed  account  of  its  history  may  here  be 
given.  This  drug  is  admittedly  a  very  desirable  laxative, 
despite  the  fact  of  its  odor  and  taste  having  made  it  a  by¬ 
word  for  offensiveness.  Although  there  is  no  direct  evidence 
that  the  use  of  castor  oil  as  a  cathartic  originated  in  the 
efforts  of  the  medicine  man  or  priest  to  disgust  the  evil 
spirit,  yet  the  first  mention  of  the  bean,  from  which  the  oil 
is  extracted,  is  connected  with  religion.  For  in  ancient 
Egypt  the  castor  bean  was  held  sacred,  and  was  placed 
in  sarcophagi  in  4000,  B.  C.  This  evidently  means  that 
the  ghosts  of  the  dead  were  believed  to  have  use  for 

1  MacCauley,  “Seminole  Indians  of  Florida,”  Bur.  Eth.  V.  p.  522. 

2  Catlin.  After  Sumner’s  Notes. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  243 


the  spirit  of  the  bean  in  the  other  world.  The  Egyptians 
called  the  bean  “neter  kaka,”  and  the  oil  extracted  was 
called  “kiki.”  The  Greeks  changed  the  name  to  xCxtvuji, 
the  Romans  transliterating  the  word  into  “Kikinum,”  or 
“Cicinum,”  which  in  turn  became  “Ricinum,”  the  present 
medical  name.1  The  oil,  from  its  supposed  efficiency  in 
assuaging  the  natural  heat  of  the  body,  and  from  its 
reputed  power  to  soothe  the  passions,  was  called  by  the 
French  “Agnus  Castus.”  For  this  reason  the  people  of 
St.  Kitfs,  in  the  West  Indies,  “who  were  formerly  blended 
with  the  Fr  ench  in  that  Island,  called  it  Castor  Oil.”  2  The 
Papyrus  Ebers  (1552,  B.C.)  recommends  the  use  of  the 
seeds  of  the  castor  bean  for  a  purgative  and  hair  tonic, 
and  the  oil  for  boils  and  in  the  preparation  of  ointments.3 
Herodotus,  according  to  Raubenheimer,  says  that  the  oil 
was  prepared  by  “‘crushing  the  seeds  or  boiling  in  water 
and  skimming/”  4  Hippocrates  made  an  effort  to  remove 
the  offensive  odor  and  taste  from  the  seeds  and  oil,  so  as 
to  render  them  more  palatable.5 6  Pliny,  in  Book  XXIII, 
chapter  4,  writes,  ‘“Castor  oil  taken  with  an  equal  quantity 
of  hot  water  acts  as  a  purgative  on  the  bowels/”  G  The 
Pen-Tsao  of  China,  and  the  Susrata  of  ancient  India  both 
mention  castor  oil  as  a  valuable  medicine.7  The  Bower 
manuscript  indicates  that  the  drug  was  in  use  in  ancient 

1  Raubenheimer,  “Tasteless  Castor  Oil,”  p.  5. 

2  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  pp.  59 — 60. 

3  Raubenheimer,  “Tasteless  Castor  Oil,”  pp.  5—6. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  6. 

5  Ibid. 

6  Ibid. 

7  Ibid. 


17* 


244 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Turkestan.1  For  some  reason  the  remedy  was  neglected 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  but  Dr.  Peter  Canvane  revived 
its  use  by  publishing  a  book,  about  1764,  entitled,  a  Disser¬ 
tation  on  Oleum  Palmae  Christi,  sive  Oleum  Ricini.” 2 
Castor  oil  gained  access  to  the  London  Pharmacopoeia  of 
1788,  “and  has  since  remained  in  universal  use  as  the 
safest  and  surest  purgative  known  to  medicine.”  3 

Another  drug  widely  in  use  as  a  cathartic,  but  much 
less  offensive  to  the  taste,  is  what  is  popularly  known  as 
Cascara  Sagrada.  This  is  a  Spanish  name  ,and  signifies 
“sacred  bark.”4  Concerning  the  laxative,  Professor  Lloyd 
writes,  “Its  journey  from  the  aborigines  to  scientific  use 
and  therapeutic  study  appears  to  parallel  the  course  of  such 
drugs  as  coca,  jalap,  benzoin,  and  sassafras.” 5  The 
botanical  name  of  the  tree  from  which  the  bark  is  obtained 
is  “rhamnus  purshiana,”  and  it  grows  in  the  Pacific  States 
of  North  America,  chiefly  in  Oregon  and  California.6  In 
some  parts  of  California,  in  the  early  days,  the  Scriptural 
term  “Shittim  bark”  was  applied  to  the  peel,7  the  local 
tradition  connecting  it  with  the  Shittim  wood  of  which  the 
Hebrew  ark  was  made.  In  1877,  Dr.  J.  H.  Bundy,  of 
Colusa,  California,  becoming  impressed  with  the  medicinal 
value  of  the  bark,  in  a  paper  published  in  “New  Prepa¬ 
rations,”  later  “The  Therapeutic  Gazette,”  recommended 

1  Raubenheimer,  “Tasteless  Castor  Oil,”  pp.  6—7. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  7. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  70. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  69. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  68. 

7  Ibid.,  p.  70. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  245 


the  drug  under  the  name  “cascara  sagrada”  “as  a  valuable 
remedy  in  the  treatment  of  constipation.” 1  In  January 
1878,  Dr.  Bundy  wrote  an  article  for  the  same  publication, 
giving  the  “uses  of  fluid  extract  of  ‘cascara  sagrada.'”  2 
During  that  year  no  less  than  twenty  contributions 
were  printed  in  “New  Preparations”  by  Dr.  Bundy  and 
other  physicians  on  the  subject  of  the  bark  and  its  use. 
This,  together  with  the  extensive  advertising  of  the  drug  by 
Parke,  Davis  and  Company,  Detroit,  Michigan,  a  wholesale 
drug  company,  served  to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  pro¬ 
fession,  “and  the  remedy  became  a  general  favorite.”  3  With¬ 
in  a  reasonable  length  of  time  the  remedy  was  in  demand  in 
all  civilized  countries,  and  was  put  into  the  United  States 
Pharmacopoeia  in  1890.4  It  is  but  fair  to  add  that  in  his 
paper  of  1878  Dr.  Bundy  stated,  “A  description  of  the 
Cascara  I  am  unable  to  give  at  this  time,  but  suffice  it  to 
say  that  it  is  a  shrub,  and  in  due  time  its  botanical  name 
will  be  known.”  5  But  Dr.  Bundy,  it  appears,  rested  his  case 
with  that  statement.  In  the  fall  of  1878,  a  partner  of 
Dr.  Bundy's,  Dr.  C.  H.  Adair,  sent  specimens  of  the  bark, 
in  addition  to  botanical  specimens  of  the  tree  yielding  it, 
to  Professor  John  Uri  Lloyd  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio.  These 
were  examined  by  Mr.  Curtis  G.  Lloyd,  and  identified  as 
“rhamnus  purshiana.”  Professor  Lloyd,  in  a  paper  on 

“Some  aspects  of  Western  Plants,”  which  he  read  before  a 

*• 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18, 
pp.  68—69. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  69. 

3  Ibid.,  p.  68. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  69. 


246  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


meeting  of  the  American  Pharmaceutical  Association,  at 
Atlanta,  Georgia,  in  November  1878,  announced  this  fact, 
and  thus  the  history  of  the  drug  was  completed.1 

Camphor  is  a  remedy  whose  discovery  goes  back 
to  its  supposed  efficacy  in  exorcising  spirits.  Among 
the  Mohammedans  this  drug  was  held  to  be  an 
infallible  means  of  keeping  off  daimons  by  reason 
of  its  smell.2  The  inhabitants  of  Logone  likewise  believed 
in  the  spirit-banning  influence  of  the  smell  of  camphor, 
and,  therefore,  used  it  as  an  amulet.3  The  camphor  tree 
was  known  to  the  Chinese  writers  as  early  as  the  sixth 
century  of  our  era;4  and  Marco  Polo,  who  visited  China 
in  the  thirteenth  century,  saw  many  trees  of  this  kind.5 
The  English  word  camphor,  is  derived  from  the  Arabian 
“eafur”  or  “canfur,”  which  imports  that  our  knowledge 
of  the  drug  is  derived  from  that  people.6  The  earliest 
mention  of  camphor  occurs  in  a  poem  by  Imru-l-Kais,  one 
of  the  oldest  poems  of  the  Arabic  language,  which  was 
written  at  the  opening  of  the  sixth  century.7  At  one  time 
the  drug  was  regarded  as  a  rare  and  precious  perfume, 
being  mentioned  on  equal  terms  with  ambergris,  sandal¬ 
wood,  and  musk,  as  a  treasure  “of  the  Sassanian  dynasty 
of  the  kings  of  Persia.”  8  “Possibly  the  first  mention  of 
camphor  as  a  European  medicine  was  by  the  Abbatissa 
Hildegard,”  in  “De  simplicibus  medicamentis,”  Argen- 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  70. 

2  Nachtigal,  “Sahara  and  Sudan,”  II,  p.  527. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Baa<?  “  Hist  Mpd  ”  n  229 

5  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg’.’ Drugs, "  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  13. 

0  Paris,  “  Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  67. 

7  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  13. 

8  Ibid. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  247 


torati,  1533.1  Since  its  introduction  into  the  materia  medica 
of  civilized  peoples,  the  drug  has  been  used  as  a  perfume 
constituent,2  as  an  antiseptic,  and  as  a  nerve  stimulant.3 

It  would  appear  that  the  use  of  iron  as  a  medicine  is 
to  be  traced  back  to  belief  in  its  power  of  spirit  expulsion. 
Tylor  writes,  “The  oriental  jinn  are  in  such  deadly  terror 
of  iron,  that  its  very  name  is  a  charm  against  them.” 4 
According  to  Mooney,  “Among  the  Gaelic  peasantry,  fire, 
iron,  and  dung  were  the  three  great  safeguards  against 
the  influence  of  fairies  and  the  infernal  spirits.” 5  Tylor 
again  says,  “As  to  iron,  demons  are  brought  under  the  same 
category  as  elves  and  nightmares.  Iron  instruments  keep 
them  at  bay,  and  especially  iron  horse-shoes  have  been 
chosen  for  this  purpose,  as  the  doors  of  many  houses  in 
Europe  and  America  still  show.” 6  The  Yakuts  placed 
sharp  tools  made  of  iron  under  their  beds,  or  put  near  by 
anything  made  of  iron,  in  order  to  ward  off  the  evil  spirits 
that  trouble  people  when  asleep.7  But  it  may  be  inquired, 
What  has  this  to  do  with  the  internal  use  of  iron  as  a 
medicine?  As  far  as  could  be  ascertained,  the  transition 
from  the  external  to  the  internal  use  of  this  substance,  with 
the  spirit  theory  in  mind,  was  made  by  the  ancient 
Greeks.  Dr.  T.  Lauder  Brunton  writes,  “The  Greeks, 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  13. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  13. 

3  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  Am.  Med.  Ass.,  p.  45. 

4  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  I,  p.  127. 

5  Mooney,  “Medical  Mythology  of  Ireland,”  Proceedings  of  Am. 
Phil.  Soc.,  1887,  p.  141. 

0  Tylor,  “Prim.  Cult.,”  I,  p.  127. 

7  Sumner,  “Yakuts”  Abridged  from  the  Russian  of  Sieroshevski, 
J.  A.  I.,  XXXI.  p.  105. 


248 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


when  a  man  was  suffering  from  weakness  and  paleness, 
put  a  sword  into  a  vessel  of  water  and  made  the  man 
drink  the  water.  They  thought  the  sword  contained  a  spirit 
of  some  virtue  that  entered  into  the  person  and  gave  him 
strength,  and  so  it  had,  especially  if  it  were  rusted  to  a 
great  degree.  If  steel  or  iron  is  put  into  water,  it  gradually 
rusts,  the  steel  slowly  dissolves,  so  that  the  water  becomes 
ferruginous.  The  Greeks  therefore  were  correct  in  their 
treatment,”  1  in  spite  of  their  theory.  According  to  Berdoe, 
“the  first  instance  in  which  a  preparation  of  iron  is 
known  to  have  been  prescribed  in  medicine”  is  when 
“Iphiclus  having  no  children,  asked  Melampus  to  tell  him 
how  he  could  become  a  father.”  The  Greek  physician 
advised  him  “to  take  the  rust  from  a  knife,  and  drink 
it  in  water  during  ten  days.  The  remedy  was  eminently 
successful.”  2  Sulphate  of  iron,  the  same  author  says, 
“is  mentioned  in  the  Amera  Cosha  of  the  Hindus,  and 
it  was  used  by  them  as  by  the  Romans,  in  the  time  of  Pliny, 
in  making  ink.” 3  Though  the  medical  virtues  of  iron  have 
been  generally  acknowledged  from  time  immemorial,  it  has 
had  a  struggle  for  existence  in  this  usage.  It  was  thought 
by  the  ancients  that  wounds  made  by  iron  instruments 
would  have  difficulty  in  healing.4  After  the  expulsion  of 
the  Tarquins,  Porsena  made  the  Romans  agree  not  to  use 
iron  except  in  agriculture.5  Avicenna  (980 — 1037) 

1  Brunton,  “Action  of  Medicines,”  p.  493. 

2  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  151. 

3  Ibid.,  p.  486. 

4  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  42. 

5  Ibid. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  249 


mentioned  the  drug  in  his  text  book  on  materia  medica,1 
but  advised  the  exhibition  of  a  magnet,  after  it  had  been 
taken  inwardly,  to  prevent  any  harmful  results.2  Iron  as 
a  remedy  was  first  introduced  into  therapeutics  by 
Paracelsus  (1493 — 1541). 3  Basil  Valentine,  who  probably 
lived  about  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  of  the 
Christian  era,  says  concerning  sulphate  of  iron,  ‘“when 
internally  administered,  it  is  a  tonic  and  comforting  to  a 
weak  stomach/  and  ‘externally  applied  it  is  an  astringent 
and  styptic.’”4  A  modern  authority  states  that  “the  only 
therapeutic  action  attributable  to  the  iron  is  the  improve¬ 
ment  in  the  number  of  red  blood-cells,  and  in  the  amount 
of  hemoglobin  in  them.  For  this  purpose  it  is  indicated 
in  anemia,  and  in  diseases  of  the  blood  in  which  anemia 
is  a  factor,  such  as  leukemia.” 5 

Spencer,  quoting  Petherick,  says,  “The  Arabs  suppose 
that  ‘in  high  fever. .  the  patient  is  possessed  by  the 
devil.”’ 6  Berdoe  writes,  “The  people  of  Tartary  make  a 
great  puppet  when  fever  is  prevalent,  which  they  call  the 
Demon  of  Intermittent  Fevers,  and  which  when  completed 
they  set  up  in  the  tent  of  the  patients.”  7 

The  one  remedy  in  the  pharmacopoeia  of  the  civilized 
which  is  regarded  as  a  specific  against  malarial  fever  is 
quinine.  This  is  prepared  from  Peruvian  bark,  which,  as  the 

1  Baas,  “Hist.  Med./  p.  229. 

2  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  42. 

3  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  390. 

4  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  71. 

5  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  Am.  Med.  Ass., 
pp.  67—68 

6  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  246. 

7  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  31. 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


250 


name  implies,  is  imported  from  Peru.  The  native  name  for 
the  bark  is  “quinia-quinia,”  or  “medicine  bark.”1  The  In¬ 
dians  of  the  Matto-Grosso  country  consider  red  cinchona 
bark  “a  remedy  for  fevers.”2  In  Ecuador,  the  bark  is  regard¬ 
ed  as  “a  specific  for  fevers.”  3  As  to  the  discovery  of  the 
medicinal  qualities  of  the  drug,  there  is  no  reliable  history. 
This  is  said  to  be  due  partly  to  the  fact  that  it  was  the 
policy  of  the  Spanish  conquistadors  to  give  as  little  credit 
as  possible  to  the  Indians  for  the  many  valuable  products 
which  they  obtained  from  them,  and  partly  to  the  fact 
that  the  natives  were  extremely  secretive  about  the 
source  of  their  medicines.4  A  legend  regarding  the 
discovery  of  the  remedy  is  that  a  native  of  Peru  who  was 
attacked  by  fever,  drank  from  a  pool  into  which  some 
of  this  bark  had  chanced  to  fall.  Since  the  bark  had 
imparted  its  medicinal  properties  to  the  water,  he  was 
cured.5  Another  legend  has  it  that  when  the  Spanish  army 
was  passing  through  the  forests  of  Peru,  about  the  time 
of  the  conquest,  a  soldier  was  seized  by  fever  and 
abandoned  to  his  fate.  He  drank  from  a  pool  of  water 
where  there  grew  a  tree  from  which  the  bark  is  taken.  He 
soon  recovered,  rejoined  his  regiment,  and  proclaimed 
the  means  of  cure.6  The  daimon  explanation  of  the 
discovery  of  the  virtues  of  the  bark  would  seem  more 

1  Wellcome,  “  A  visit  to  the  Native  Cinchona  Forests,”  Proceed¬ 
ings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  829. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  23. 

15  Wellcome,  “A  visit  to  the  Native  Cinchona  Forests,”  Proceed¬ 
ings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  829. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  251 


simple.  There  is  direct  evidence  that  the  savage  attributes 
fever  to  spirit  possession.1  It  is  known  that  the  natives  of 
Ecuador  and  Peru  resorted  to  the  use  of  the  bark  in  case 
of  fever.2  Putting  these  two  facts  together,  what  more 
reasonable  than  the  supposition  that  the  medicine  man,  in 
his  efforts  to  expel  the  spirit,  lighted  upon  the  bark  which 
effected  a  recovery?  At  any  rate  the  Peruvians  believe  that 
the  drug  was  known,  and  used  as  a  remedy  at  a  much 
earlier  date  than  when  the  Spaniards,  under  Pizarro, 
invaded  their  land.3  And  that  the  bark  had  some  kind  of 
religious  significance  among  the  Indians,  is  evidenced  by 
this  quotation  from  Wellcome:  “I  was  informed  that  pieces 
of  the  bark  had  been  discovered  in  some  of  the  ancient 
tombs,”  [in  Peru]  “which  is  very  probable.”  4  This  would 
seem  to  connect  the  use  of  the  drug  with  the  spirit 
theory.  It  was  no  doubt  placed  in  the  tombs  in 
order  that  the  departed  might  make  use  of  its 
spirit  against  the  spirits  in  the  other  world. 

In  the  seventeenth  century,  when  the  Count  of  Chin- 
chona  was  governor  of  Peru,  at  that  time  a  Spanish 
colony,  the  Countess  was  taken  by  , an  attack  of  fever 
and  seemed  likely  to  die.  The  natives,  hearing  of  the 
sickness  of  the  foreign  woman,  gave  to  a  Jesuit  missionary, 
who  worked  among  them,  bark  from  a  tree  growing  upon 
the  mountain  slopes,  advising  him  to  grind  it  to  powder 
and  give  it  to  the  sick  woman  at  certain  intervals.  The 
countess  recovered,  and  being  of  a  philanthropic 

1  Vide  p.  249.  2  Vide  p.  250. 

3  Wellcome,  “A  visit  to  the  Native  Cinchona  Forests,”  Proceed¬ 
ings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  830.  4  Ibid. 


252 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


disposition,  she  sent  a  quantity  of  the  bark  to  Europe 
for  use  among  the  poor.  It  effected  the  same  recoveries  in 
Europe  as  in  Peru,  and  so  attracted  much  attention.1 
It  was  at  first  known  as  “Jesuits’  bark.”  2  In  the  process 
of  time  the  bark  and  tree  were  botanically  investigated  by 
Linnaeus,  and  named  in  honor  of  the  house  to  which 
the  countess  belonged,  “chinchona,”  which  name  was 
shortened  to  “cinchona.” 3  It  is  now  generally  called 
“cinchona  bark,”  although  sometimes  the  name  “Peruvian 
bark”  is  applied  to  it.  According  to  Baas,  the 
first  medical  work  to  advise  the  use  of  Peruvian 
bark  was  the  “Vera  Praxis  ad  Curationem  Terti- 
anae,”  written  by  Pietro  Barba,  a  professor  in  Valla¬ 
dolid  in  1642.4  Francesco  Torti  (1658 — 1741)  is  said  to 
have  introduced  the  drug  into  Italy.5  The  Edinburgh 
Pharmacopoeia  of  1730  says,  “Cardinal  de  Lugo  was  the 
first  to  bring  the  bark  into  France.”  That  was  in  1650,  at 
which  time  it  was  called  “Jesuits’  powder,”  “because  the 
Jesuits  had  the  distribution  of  it,  the  Cardinal,  who  was 
of  their  order,  having  left  them  a  large  quantity.” 6  In 
Salmon’s  “Practical  Physic,”  published  in  1692,  one  may 
read,  “‘As  a  specific  against  all  manner  of  ague,  take 
quinqum  or  Jesuits’  bark,  two  drachms,  beat  it  into 
powder  just  about  the  time  of  using  it,  infuse  it  in  a  good 

1  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  pp.  112  ff. 

2  Wellcome,  “A  visit  to  the  Native  Cinchona  Forests,”  Proceed¬ 
ings  of  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  829. 

3  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  112. 

4  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  544. 

5  Ibid.,  p.  719. 

6  Sanders,  “  Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass., 
1878,  pp.  846—848. 


cH.vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  253 


draught  of  claret  or  other  wine  for  the  space  of  two  hours, 
then  give  the  patient  both  liquor  and  powder  at  once.’”  1 
Not  long  after  the  introduction  of  the  drug  into  France 
by  the  Jesuits  it  fell  into  neglect.  Robert  Tabor,  according 
to  one  authority,  in  1679, 2  and  according  to  another  writer, 
in  1706, 3  again  established  its  reputation  in  that  country  by 
introducing  it  as  a  nostrum.  He  prepared  a  secret 
concoction  said  to  be  made  of  lemon  juice,  or  Rhine 
wine,  a  small  amount  of  opium,  and  cinchona,  and  was 
so  successful  in  effecting  cures  in  Paris  that  the 
government  purchased  his  secret.” 4  From  about  1680 
down  to  the  eighteenth  century,  the  medical  world 
was  divided  as  to  the  benefits  toi  be  derived  from 
the  administration  of  the  remedy.  It  was  condemned 
because  “it  did  not  evacuate  the  morbific  matter,”  because 
“it  bred  obstructions  in  the  viscera,”  because  “it  only 
bound  up  the  spirits,  and  stopped  the  paroxysms  for  a 
time,  and  favored  the  translation  of  the  peccant  matter 
into  the  more  noble  parts.” 5  “In  a  postscript  to  his 
work  on  ‘Primitive  Physic’  published  in  1747,  John 
Wesley  wrote,  ‘It  is  because  they  are  not  safe  but  extremely 
dangerous,  that  I  have  omitted  the  four  Herculean  medi¬ 
cines,  opium,  the  bark,  steel,  and  most  of  the  preparations 
of  quicksilver.”’ 6  About  the  same  time,  a  Dr.  Tissot 

1  Sanders,  “  Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass., 
1878,  pp.  846  -  848. 

2  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  544. 

3  Sanders,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  pp.  846—848. 

4  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  544. 

5  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  42. 

6  Sanders,  “Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass., 
1878,  pp.  846-848. 


254 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


strongly  recommended  the  use  of  cinchona,  especially 
in  ague.1  He  was  severely  taken  to  task  for  this.  An 
English  writer  who  did  not  give  his  name,  said  in  criticism 
of  Tissot,  ‘“with  reference  to  his  vehement  recommenda¬ 
tion  of  Peruvian  bark  as  the  only  infallible  remedy  either 
for  mortifications  or  intermittent  fevers,  he  really  seems 
transported  with  it,  as  do  many  physicians  besides.  It 
is  not  an  infallible  remedy  either  for  the  one  or  for  the 
other.  I  have  known  pounds  of  it  given  to  stop  a 
mortification,  yet  the  mortification  spread  till  it  killed  the 
patient.  I  myself  took  pounds  of  it  when  I  was  young,  for 
a  common  tertian  ague,  and  I  should  have  probably  died 
of  it,  had  I  not  been  cured  unawares  by  drinking  largely 
of  lemonade.  I  will  be  bold  to  say  from  my  personal 
knowledge  that  there  are  other  remedies  which  less 
often  fail.  I  believe  that  the  bark  has  cured  six  agues  in 
ten.  I  know  cobweb  pills  have  cured  nine  in  ten  ...  I  object 
secondly,  that  it  is  far  from  being  a  safe  remedy.  This 
I  affirm  in  the  face  of  the  sun,  that  it  frequently  turns  an 
intermittent  fever  into  a  consumption.  By  this,  a  few  years 
since,  one  of  the  most  amiable  young  women  I  have  known 
lost  her  life,  and  so  did  one  of  the  healthiest  young  men 
in  Yorkshire.  I  could  multiply  instances,  but  I  need  9 go 
no  further  than  my  own  case.  In  the  last  ague  which  I 
had,  the  first  ounce  of  the  bark  was,  as  I  expected,  thrown 
off  by  purging.  The  second,  being  mixed  with  salt  of 
wormwood,  stayed  in  my  stomach,  and  just  at  the  hour  the 

1  Sanders,  “Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass. 

1878,  pp.  846-848. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  255 


ague  should  have  come,  began  a  pain  in  my  shoulder-blade. 
Quickly  it  shifted  its  place,  began  a  little  lower  under  my 
left  breast  and  there  fixed.  In  less  than  an  hour  I  had  a 
short  cough,  the  pain  and  the  fever  continued  without 
intermission,  and  every  night  soon  after  I  lay  down,  came 
first  a  dry  cough,  for  forty  or  forty-five  minutes,  then  an 
impetuous  one  till  something  seemed  to  burst,  and  for  half 
an  hour  more  I  threw  up  a  thick  fetid  pus. . .  In  less  than 
six  hours  it  obstructed,  inflamed,  and  ulcerated  my  lungs, 
and  by  the  summary  process  brought  me  into  the  third 
stage  of  a  true  pulmonary  consumption.  Excuse  me, 
therefore,  if,  escaped  with  the  skin  of  my  teeth,  I  say  to 
all  I  have  any  influence  over,  wherever  you  have  an 
intermittent  fever,  look  at  me,  and  beware  of  the  bark.”’ 1 
The  price  at  which  the  bark  was  sold  serves  to  indicate 
the  character  of  the  various  phases  of  the  struggle  through 
which  it  had  to  pass  before  it  was  admitted  without 
question  into  the  materia  medica  of  Europe.  When  first 
introduced  into  France  the  remedy  literally  brought  its 
weight  in  gold,2  a  price  equal  to  about  twenty  dollars 
an  ounce.3  Sturmius,  according  to  Paris,  saw  twenty  doses 
of  the  powdered  bark  sold  at  Brussels  for  sixty  florins, 
and  adds  that  he  would  have  paid  that  price  for  some 
doses,  but  the  supply  had  given  out.4  In  London,  as  late 
as  1680,  the  bark  sold  at  eight  pounds  an  ounce.5  On  the 

1  Sanders,  “Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass. 

1878,  pp.  846-848. 

2  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  544. 

3  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  830. 

4  Paris,  “  Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  43. 

5  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.”  p.  544. 


256 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


other  hand,  Paris  quotes  Condamine  to  the  effect 
that  in  1690,  ‘“several  thousand  pounds  of  the 
bark  lay  at  Piura  and  Payta  for  want  of  a  purchaser.’”  1 
Baas  states  that  to  Sydenham  belongs  the  greatest 
credit  for  introducing  the  bark  into  England;  and  that 
Peyer  and  Bernhard  Valentini  (1657 — 1729),  a  professor  in 
the  university  of  Giessen,  were  said  to  have  been  the  first 
to  employ  it  in  Germany.2  About  1757,  according  to 
Sanders,  there  is  to  be  found  “in  a  work  on  the  commerce 
of  the  Eui  opean  settlements  in  America  the  following :  ‘This 
medicine/  [cinchona],  ‘as  usual,  was  held  in  defiance  for  a 
good  while  by  medical  authorities,  but  after  an  obstinate 
defence  they  have  thought  proper  at  last  to  surrender.  Not¬ 
withstanding  all  the  mischiefs  at  first  foreseen  in  its  use, 
everybody  knows  that  it  is  at  this  day  innocently  and 
efficaciously  prescribed  in  a  great  variety  of  cases;  for 
which  reason  it  makes  a  considerable  and  valuable  part  of 
the  cargo  of  the  galleons.’” 3  In  the  latter  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century  and  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth, 
Fothergill,  Werlhof  and  Torti,  Johann  Heinrich  Rahn  of 
Zurich,  and  Althof,  a  professor  at  Gottingen,  had  to  carry 
on  a  continual  fight  to  establish  the  advantages  of  the 
bark.4  In  1854,  Alfred  Russell  Wallace  and  Dr.  Carl 
Hasskarl  introduced  the  remedy  into  Dutch  and  English 
India.  According  to  Baas  that  was  a  great  service,  for 

he  says,  “Without  this  humane  and  characteristically 

1  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  43. 

2  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  544. 

3  Sanders,  “Presidential  Address,”  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass. 

1878,  pp.  846—848. 

4  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  719. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  257 


professional  act,  cinchona  and  its  preparations,  particularly 
under  its  recent  abuse  in  medicine,  would  have  finally 
disappeared  from  our  store  of  drugs.”  1 

It  remains  to  be  mentioned  that,  in  1820,  the  French 
chemists  Pelletier  and  Caventou  subjected  the  bark  to  a 
chemical  analysis,  and  announced  to  the  Academy  of 
Sciences,  Paris,  that  as  a  result  of  their  experiments  they 
had  discovered  its  active  principle,  which  in  due  time  was 
called  “quinine.”  2 

It  was  stated  in  another  chapter3  that  blood-letting  is 
practiced  by  some  savage  tribes,  with  a  different  inter¬ 
pretation  from  that  of  propitiation,  in  that  the  inhabitants 
of  the  River  Darling,  New  South  Wales,  give  blood  as 
nutrition  to  very  weak  patients.  How  near  those 
primitive  peoples  came  to  reaching  certain  basic  truths  it  is 
impossible  to  say.  There  is,  however,  authority  for  the  state¬ 
ment  that  among  civilized  nations,  arterial  blood,  dried 
and  powdered,  is  recommended  for  use  as  a  restorative; 
that  blood  is  prescribed  for  persons  suffering  from 
anemia  and  poor  nutrition;  and  that  no  less  than  fifteen 
preparations  of  blood  are  on  sale  in  twentieth  century 
pharmacies.4 

The  discovery  of  narcotics  is  to  be  traced  neither  to 
the  positive  nor  to  the  negative  methods — neither  to 
propitiation  nor  exorcism — of  the  medicine  man  in  the 
treatment  of  disease.  In  chapter  II  of  this  book  it  was 

1  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  846. 

2  Am.  Jour.  Pharmacy,  Nov.  1905,  p.  544. 

3  Vide  p.  185. 

4  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  109. 


18 


258 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


shown  that  sometimes  when  the  shaman  is  unable  to 
present  external  proofs  of  being  possessed  by  spirits, 
he  resorts  to  the  use  of  drugs,  and  in  this  manner 
feigns  possession.1  In  this  same  connexion  Spencer  says, 
“Whether  produced  by  fasting,  fever,  hysteria,  or  insanity, 
any  extreme  excitement  is,  by  savage  and  semi-civilized 
peoples,  ascribed  to  a  possessing  spirit.  Similar  is  the 
interpretation  of  an  unusual  mental  state  caused  by  a 
nerve  stimulant.  It  is  thought  that  a  supernatural 
being,  contained  in  the  solid  or  liquid  swallowed, 
produces”  [this  mental  state.] 2  Speaking  of  Moham¬ 
medan  opium-eaters,  Vambery  says,  ‘“What  surprised 

H  " 

me  most  was  that  these  wretched  people  were 
regarded  as  eminently  religious,  of  whom  it  was 
thought  that  from  their  love  to  God  and  the  Prophet  they 
had  become  mad,  and  stupefied  themselves  in  order  that  in 
their  excited  state  they  might  be  nearer  the  Beings  they 
loved  so  well.’”  3  Bourke  writes,  “The  pranks  and 
gibberish  of  the  maniac  or  the  idiot  are  solemnly 
treasured  as  outbursts  of  inspiration.  Where  such 
an  exaltation  can  be  produced  by  an  herb,  bulb,  liquid, 
or  food,  the  knowledge  of  such  an  excitant  is 
kept  as  long  as  possible  from  the  laity;  and  even 
after  the  general  diffusion  of  a  more  enlightened 
intelligence  has  broadened  the  mental  horizon  of  the 
devotee,  these  narcotics  and  irritants  are  ‘sacred/  and  the 
frenzies  they  induce  are  ‘sacred’  also. . .  Mushroom,  mistle¬ 
toe,  rue,  ivy,  mandrake,  hemp,  opium,  and  the  stramonium 

1  Vide  pp.  45—46.  2  Spencer,  “  Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p. 

355.  3  Ibid. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  259 


of  the  medicine  man  of  the  Hualpai  Indians  of  Arizona, — 
all  may  well  be  examined  in  the  light  of  this  proposition.”  1 

Since  “plants  yielding  intoxicating  agents  are  supposed 
by  primitive  peoples  to  contain  spirits,”  2  since  it  is  thought 
that  when  an  individual  is  under  the  influence  of  intoxicants, 
he  is  possessed  by  divinities,  and  since  “the  knowledge 
of  such  excitant  is  kept  as  long  as  possible  from  the 
laity,” 3  “mushroom,  mistletoe,  rue,  ivy,  hemp,  opium,  and 
stramonium,”  may  reasonably  have  been  discovered  by 
the  medicine  man  in  his  efforts  to  induce  a  state  of 
religious  ecstasy,  thereby  demonstrating  to  his  constituents 
the  fact  that  a  possessing  spirit  has  descended  upon  him. 
These  drugs  in  due  time  would  be  taken  up,  investigated, 
analyzed,  named,  and  used  with  a  new  signification. 

The  typical  narcotic  whose  history  is  to  be  sketched 
in  this  chapter  is  opium.  The  name  of  the  particular 
medicine  man  who,  in  his  ambition  to  appear 
possessed,  blundered  upon  this  drug  is  not  known. 
Bartels  says  that,  as  far  as  he  is  aware,  the  drug 
is  never  applied  by  savage  tribes  of  the  present  time 
for  healing  purposes,  but  rather  with  the  idea  of 
inducing  possession.4  There  are  remedies  used  by 
primitive  races,  however,  with  the  intention  of  removing 
pain,  or  of  producing  a  kind  of  narcotization.  The  Tartars 
and  Cossacks  on  the  Yenessei  River  prepare  a  decoction 
made  from  the  leaves  of  rhododendron  chrysanthemum, 

1  Bourke,  “Scatalogic  Rites  of  all  Nations,”  p.  97. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  358. 

3  Bourke,  “Scatalogic  Rites  of  all  Nations,”  p.  97. 

4  Bartels,  “Med.  Naturvolker,”  p.  125. 


260 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


which  they  get  from  the  Koibals.  They  put  the  plant  into 
a  pot  covered  air-tight,  and  stew  it  in  an  oven.  Thus  they 
get  a  strong,  bitter,  brownish  liquid  which  produces  upon 
the  patient  a  feverish  heat,  a  kind  of  intoxication,  and  even 
unconsciousness.1  Narcosis  for  the  purpose  of  a  surgical 
operation  is  recorded  by  Felkin  to  have  been  applied 
in  Uganda.  In  that  place  a  native  surgeon  performed 
the  Caesarean  operation  upon  a  pregnant  woman,  after 
first  producing  partial  stupor  by  means  of  banana- 
wine.2  Since  peoples  at  this  stage  of  culture,  therefore,  are 
acquainted  with  the  medicinal  use  of  narcotics,  it  is  a 
reasonable  inference  that,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  opium 
is  not  used  by  the  savage  of  today  with  the  idea  of 
assuaging  pain,  yet  some  savage  or  semi-civilized  individual 
in  the  far  distant  past  must  have  experienced  and  revealed 
to  his  fellows  “the  properties  of  the  poppy,  that  sweet 
oblivious  antidote  for  alleviating  pain,”  for  “the  discovery 
of  the  medical  qualities  of  opium  is  lost  in  times  gone 
by.”  3  The  English  word  “opium,”  according  to  the  Oxford 
Dictionary,  is  derived  from  the  Greek  otclov,  or  poppy 
juice.4  Peters  quotes  Typhon  Miquel  as  saying  that  the  drug 
corresponds  to  the  description  of  vYjTusvfrss,  which  Helen 
gave  to  T elemachus,  at  the  house  of  Menelaus,  that  he  might 
forget  his  sorrows.5  This  conjecture,  according  to  Peters, 
is  supported  by  the  fact  that  the  formula  for  that  beverage 

had  been  obtained  from  Polydamnos,  wife  of  Thous  of 

1  Bartels,  “Med  Naturvolker,”  p.  125. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  62. 

4  Op.  Cit.  p.  153. 

5  Peters,  “Pictorial  Pharmacy,”  p.  139. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  261 


Egypt.1  Tincture  of  opium,  or  laudanum,  therefore,  “has 
been  called  Thebic  Tincture."  2  The  Hebrew  books 
make  no  mention  of  the  drug,  though  the  poppy  was 
cultivated  in  Western  Asia  in  very  ancient  times,  and 
probably  even  in  historic  times.3  The  properties  of  the 
plant  were  known  in  the  time  of  Hippocrates,4  and  the 
Egyptians  of  Pliny's  time  used  a  liquor  of  the  poppy 
for  medical  purposes.5  Dioscorides,  who  lived  in  the 
second  century  of  our  era,  distinguished  between  the 
juice  obtained  from  the  poppy  capsule,  and  the  extract 
obtained  from  the  entire  plant.6  “Inasmuch  as  he  describes 
how  the  capsule  should  be  incised,  and  the  juice  collected, 
it  is  evident  that  he  plainly  refers  to  opium." 7  Theo¬ 
phrastus,  in  the  first  century,  B.  C.,  mentions  the  drug,  as 
does  Celsus,  in  the  first  century  of  the  present  era,  and  during 
the  Roman  sway,  it  was  known  as  coming  from  Asia 
Minor.8  It  is  conjectured  that  Mohammed's  prohibition 
of  wine  led  to  extension  of  the  use  of  opium  in  some  parts 
of  Asia.9  At  any  rate  the  drug  passed  from  Asia  Minor 
to  the  Arabs,  who  took  it  to  Persia,  and  even  to  more 
Eastern  countries.10  The  Mohammedans  introduced  opium 
into  India,  “the  earliest  mention  being  by  Barbosa,  who 
visited  Calicut,  the  port  of  export  then  being  Aden,  or 

1  Peters,  “Pictorial  Pharmacy,”  p.  139. 

2  Paris,  “  Pharmacologia,”  I,  p.  24. 

3  De  Candolle,  “L’  Origine  des  Plantes  Cultiv6es,”  p.  320. 

2  Peters,  “Pictorial  Pharmacy,”  p.  139. 

5  De  Candolle,  “L’  Origine  des  Plantes  CultivGes,”  p.  320. 

6  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  62. 

7  Ibid. 

8  Ibid. 

9  Ibid. 

10  Ibid. 


262 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Cambey.” 1  Kampfer,  a  German  traveller,  visited  Persia 
in  1685,  and  described  “the  various  kinds  of  opium  then 
produced,  stating  that  it  was  customary  to  mix  the  drug 
with  various  aromatics,  such  as  nutmeg,  cardamom, 
cinnamon,  and  mace,  and  even  with  ambergris;  also 
with  the  red-coloring  matter  made  of  cannabis  indica  and 
the  seeds  of  stramonium.” 2  The  ching  che  chun  ching 
of  the  Chinese  is  said  to  date  to  a  very  early  period 
in  the  Christian  era,  and  perhaps  to  a  time  prior  to  that. 
It  is  a  work  of  forty  volumes,  eight  of  which  are  devoted 
to  Luy-Fang,  or  Pharmacology.  In  this  “opium  is 
recommended  as  an  anodyne,  and  in  dysentery.”  3  Opium 
smoking  began  in  China  after  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  and  spread  rapidly.4  Lloyd  can  find  no  instance 
of  the  use  of  the  drug  in  any  form  by  the  Turkish  people 
of  the  present  time,5  though  now  as  in  the  past  the 
principle  place  of  export  of  the  opium  poppy  is  Smyrna.0 
Hera  elides  of  Tarentum,  who  lived  about  the  third  century, 
B.C.,  is  said  to  have  made  use  of  the  drug  to  procure 
sleep.7  “In  Europe,  opium  was  not  in  times  gone  by 
one  of  the  more  costly  drugs,  being  cheaper  than  camphor, 

rhubarb,  or  senna.” 8  In  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth, 

1  Lloyd,  “  Opium  and  its  Compounds,”  Lloyd  Bros.  Drug  Treatise, 
No.  XXII,  p.  4. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Therapeutic  Monthly,  Oct.  1901,  p.  192. 

4  Lloyd,  “Opium  and  its  Compounds,”  Lloyd  Bros-  Drug  Treatise, 
No.  XXII,  p.  5. 

5  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  62. 

15  Lloyd,  “Opium  and  its  Compounds,”  Lloyd  Bros.  Drug  Treatise, 

No.  XXII,  p.  4. 

7  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  201. 

8  Lloyd,  “Opium  and  its  Compounds,”  Lloyd  Bros.  Drug  Treatise, 
No.  XXII,  p.  4. 


ch.  vh  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  263 


and  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  advocates 
of  this  remedy  had  to  fight  to  establish  its  advantages.1 
At  the  present  time,  opium  and  its  alkaloids  are  in  use  in 
all  civilized  countries.2 

The  most  important  alkaloid  of  opium  is  morphine. 
The  history  of  the  discovery  of  morphine  briefly  stated  is 
as  follows:  Paris  quotes  “Annales  de  Chimie,”  Vol.  XLV, 
as  saying  that  Doerosne  first  obtained  a  crystalline 
substance  from  opium  in  1803,  which  dissolved  in  acids, 
but  he  did  not  determine  its  nature  or  properties.3  The  same 
author  then  says,  giving  as  authority  “Annales  de  Chimie,” 
Vol.  XCII,  that  in  1804,  Seguin  discovered  another 
crystalline  body  in  opium,  and  although  describing  most  of 
its  properties,  he  did  not  hint  at  its  alkaline  nature.4 
“Annales  de  Chimie,”  Vol.  V.,  is  then  cited  as 
authority  for  the  statement  that  Sertiirner  at  Eim- 
beck,  Hannover,  had  contemporaneously  with  Doerosne 
and  Seguin  obtained  these  crystalline  bodies,  but  it  was 
not  until  1817,  “that  he  unequivocally  proclaimed  the 
existence  of  a  vegetable  alkali,  and  assigned  to  it  the 
narcotic  powers  which  distinguish  the  operation  of 
opium. ” 5  Sertiirner  named  this  body  “morphia,”  6  from 
Morpheus,  the  Greek  god  of  sleep,7  and  it  is  said  to  be 

1  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  719. 

2  Lloyd,  “Opium  and  its  Compounds, “  Lloyd  Bros.  Drug  Treatise, 
No.  XXII,  p.  4. 

3  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  II,  p.  244. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Ibid. 

e  Ibid. 

7  Park,  “A  Study  of  Medical  Words,”  Yale  Med.  Jour.,  July 
1902,  p.  6. 


264 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  same  as  the  essential  salt  noticed  by  Seguin.1  The 
salt  discovered  by  Doerosne  was  for  a  time  mistaken  for 
one  of  the  salts  of  morphia,  but,  according  to  “Annales 
de  Chimie,”  Vol  V,  M.  Robiquet  “pointed  out  its  distinc¬ 
tive  qualities,”  and  it  was  thereafter  denominated  “Nar¬ 
cotine.”  2 

Another  drug,  which  owes  its  discovery  to  the 
efforts  of  the  representatives  of  the  imaginary  environment 
to  appear  possessed,  is  Erythroxylon  Coca.  The  coca  shrub 
is  indigenous  to  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Andes,  where, 
especially  in  Bolivia  and  Peru,  it  still  grows  wild.  In  recent 
times,  however,  the  demand  for  coca  has  been  so  great 
that  many  acres  of  the  plant  are  now  under  culti¬ 
vation  in  those  countries.3  The  leaves  are  the  valuable 
portion.  They  resemble  tea  leaves  in  shape  and  size— -oval- 
oblong,  pointed,  two  or  more  inches  long  by  about  one 
in  breadth,  and  having  short,  delicate  footstalks.4  Spencer, 
quoting  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega’s  “Royal  Commentaries  of 
the  Incas,”  Vol.  I,  p.  88,  says,  ‘“The  Peruvians  still  look 
upon  it  [coca]  with  feelings  of  superstitious  veneration. 
In  the  time  of  the  Incas  it  was  sacrificed  to  the  sun,  the 
Huillae  Umu,  or  high  priest,  chewing  the  leaf  during  the 
ceremony.  Among  the  Chibchas,  too,  hayo  [coca]  was 
used  as  an  inspiring  agent  by  the  priests.’”  5  There  would 
seem,  therefore,  to  be  little  room  for  doubt  that  the 

beginning  of  the  knowledge  of  the  effects  of  coca  upon 

1  Paris,  “Pharmacologia,”  II,  p.  244. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Steele,  Proceedings  of  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  p.  775. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  p.  358. 


ch.vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  265 


the  physical  organization  is  connected  with  religion. 
According  to  Mortimer,  coca  leaves  were  sometimes  used 
in  services  of  propitiation,  as  the  following  quotation  from 
Lloyd  will  show:  ‘“When  the  period  for  departure  (on  a 
perilous  journey)  actually  arrives,  the  Indians  throw  coca 
in  the  air,  just  as  did  the  Inca  priests  of  old,  to  propitiate 
the  gods  of  the  mountains,  who  presumably  do  not 
wish  their  domains  invaded.’”  1  The  connexion  of 
the  plant  with  service  to  the  gods  is  further  attested 
by  the  fact  that  specimens  of  erythroxylon  coca  leaf  have 
been  obtained  from  the  old  Inca  tombs  of  Peru,2  and  it 
is  said  to  be  the  custom  of  the  natives  of  that  country, 
when  they  see  a  mummy,  to  kneel  down  with  devotion 
and  place  around  it  a  handful  of  coca  leaves.3.  The 
knowledge  of  the  effects  of  the  plant  filtered  down  to  the 
ranks  of  the  laity,  and  was  used  with  a  different  inter¬ 
pretation.  This  is  evidenced  by  a  quotation  from  the  Jesuit 
Father  Bias  Valera,  who,  writing  in  1609,  said,  “‘It  may 
be  gathered  how  powerful  the  coca  is  in  its  effects  on 
the  laborer,  from  the  fact  that  the  Indians,  who  use  it, 
become  stronger  and  much  more  satisfied,  and  work  all  day 
without  eating.’” 4  It  is  said  that  the  Indian  runners  of 
the  Andes,  who  of  necessity  had  to  carry  as  little  food  as 
possible,  were  accustomed  to  take  with  them  a  few  coca 
leaves,  and  these  sufficed  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  and  upon 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  19, 
Quoting  W.  G.  Mortimer’s  “Hist,  of  Peru  and  Coca.” 

2  Wellcome,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1879,  p.  830. 

3  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  pp.  780 ff. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  19, 
Quoting  Bias  Valera  “  Commentarios  Reales.” 


266 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


such  food  they  could  undergo  the  most  exhausting  and 
exacting  journeys.1  A  plant  used  so  extensively  in  the 
native  religious  ceremonies  necessarily  fell  under  the  hostile 
criticism  of  the  early  Spanish  explorers,  in  whose  opinion 
the  sacerdotal  employment  of  the  leaves  served  to  divert 
the  heathen  from  the  worship  of  the  true  God.2  In  1567, 
accordingly,  a  Church  council  condemned  coca  as  a 
‘“worthless  substance  fitted  for  the  misuse  and  superstition 
of  the  Indians,”’ 3  and  in  1569,  ‘“the  Spanish  audience  at 
Lima,  composed  of  bishops  from  all  parts  of  South  America, 
denounced  coca  because,  as  they  asserted,  it  was  a 
pernicious  leaf,  the  chewing  of  which  the  Indians  supposed 
gave  them  strength,  and  was  hence  ‘Un  delusio  del 
demonio.’” 4  All  this,  however,  was  of  no  avail.  The 
Indians  continued  to  use  their  national  leaf,  and  the  owners 
of  plantations  and  mines,  on  account  of  its  good  effects  on 
their  laborers,  came  to  its  defence.  But  the  Church,  true 
to  its  conservative  tendencies,  did  not  give  up  until  the 
last.  It  finally  came,  nevertheless,  to  regard  the  leaf 
highly,  and  recommended  its  introduction  into  Europe.5 
The  fact  that  the  chewing  of  coca  leaves  lessened  the 
sense  of  fatigue,  and  imparted  a  feeling  of  well-being, 
attracted  the  attention  of  European  travellers.  Coca  was 
first  mentioned  by  Nicholas  Monardes,  of  Seville,6  who 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  19. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.  1878,  pp.  780  ff. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  19, 
Quoting  Mortimer’s  “Hist.  Peru  and  Coca.” 

5  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  pp.  781  ff. 

11  Baas,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  368. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  267 


in  1569  published  an  article  on  the  drug,  which  was 
reproduced  in  1577  in  London.1  A  botanical  description, 
written  by  Clusius,  followed  in  1605. 2  In  1793,  Dr.  Don 
Pedro  Nolasco  called  attention  to  the  advantages  that 
might  accrue  from  the  introduction  of  the  plant  into 
European  navies.3  For  many  years,  despite  the  experiences 
and  recommendations  of  travellers,  the  reputed  virtues  of 
the  drug  were  scouted  as  'fabulous,  or  even  ridiculed 
by  the  medical  world  of  Europe.4  Dr.  H.  A.  Weddell  and 
others,  both  prior  and  subsequent  to  the  year  1850, 
attempted  vainly  to  discover  an  energetic  constituent 
of  the  drug.  It  was  at  first  erroneously  thought  that  the 
leaves  of  the  plant  owed  their  inherent  properties  (provided 
they  had  any)  to  some  volatile  principle.  The  only  volatile 
base  discovered  was  named  “hydrine,”  but  it  “did  not  at 
all  represent  coca,  and  is  no  longer  mentioned.” 5  The 
fame  and  the  reputed  powers  of  coca,  however,  as  well 
as  the  fact  that  it  was  creeping  into  the  use  of  practicing 
physicians,  led  such  chemists  as  Stanislas,  Martin,  Maisch, 
Lossin,  Wohler,  and  many  others  to  subject  the  drug  to 
repeated  analyses,  which  resulted  in  such  products  as  coca- 
wax,  coca-tannic  acid,  and  several  alkaloidal  bases.6  In 
1860,  Dr.  Albert  Niemann,  of  Gottingen,  Germany, 
assistant  in  the  Laboratory  of  Professor  Wohler,  succeeded 

in  isolating  an  alkaloid  to  which  he  gave  the  name  cocaine.7 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  18. 

2  Ibid. 

3  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass,  1878,  pp.  781  ff. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  18. 

5  Ibid.  6  Ibid.,  pp.  19—20. 

7  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library  Bulletin,  No.  18, 
p.  20;  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  p.  785. 


268 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


As  in  the  case  of  quinine,  ipecacuanha,  and  opium,  cocaine 
has  had  a  struggle  to  survive.  English  chemists,  such  as 
Dowdeswell,  Murrell,  and  Garrard,  subjected  the  alkaloid  to 
chemical  experimentation,  the  results  of  which  Dowdeswell 
summed  up  in  the  London  Lancet  May  6,  1876,  p.  667, 
as  follows:  ‘“It  has  not  effected  the  pupil  nor  the  state 
of  the  skin;  it  has  caused  neither  drowsiness  nor  sleep¬ 
lessness;  assuredly  it  has  occasioned  none  of  those  sub¬ 
jective  effects  so  fervidly  described  and  ascribed  to  it  by 
others — not  the  slightest  excitement,  nor  even  the  feeling 
of  buoyancy  and  exhilaration,  which  is  experienced  from 
mountain  air  or  a  draught  of  spring  water.  This  examina¬ 
tion  was  commenced  in  the  expectation  that  the  drug  would 
prove  important  and  interesting  physiologically,  and 
perhaps  valuable  as  a  therapeutic  agent.  This  expectation 
has  been  disappointed.  Without  asserting  that  it  is 
positively  inert,  it  is  concluded  from  these  experiments  that 
its  action  is  so  slight  as  to  preclude  the  idea  of  its  having 
any  value  either  therapeutically  or  popularly ;  and  it  is  the 
belief  of  the  writer,  from  observation  upon  the  effect  on 
the  pulse,  and  other  bodily  organs,  of  tea,  milk-and-water, 
and  even  plain  water,  hot,  tepid,  and  cold,  that  such  things 
may,  at  slightly  different  temperatures,  produce  a  more 
decided  effect  than  even  large  doses  of  coca,  if  taken  at 
about  the  temperature  of  the  body.’”1  Similar  observations 
were  published  by  Dr.  Roberts  Bartholow  in  “The  Thera¬ 
peutic  Gazette,”  July  1880,  p.  280,  who  declared  that  coca 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18, 

pp.  21—22. 


ch.  vh  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  269 


at  its  best  “‘acts  like  theine  and  caffeine  as  an  indirect 
nutrient.7”  1  The  scientific  world  of  that  day  accepted  the 
verdict  of  those  investigators  that  coca  and  its  alkaloid 
cocaine,  were  nothing  more  than  mild  caffeine-bearing 
stimulants,  such  as  tea  and  coffee,  and  that  far  from 
possessing  any  important  inherent  quality,  they  were 
positively  inert.2  Since  the  investigations  of  Dowdeswell 
seemed  incontrovertible,  commercial  enterprises  concerned 
in  the  exploitation  of  coca  suffered  a  severe  loss.  Shortly 
after  its  discovery,  cocaine  sold  in  New  York  at  one  dollar 
a  grain,3  but  “the  annual  consumption  in  the  middle 
and  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  of  forty  million 
pounds  of  coca,  at  a  cost  of  ten  million  dollars,77  caused 
that  “substance  to  take  rank  among  the  large  economic 
blunders  of  the  age.77  4  The  prospect  very  much  disturbed 
the  leading  American  manufacturing  pharmacist  of  that 
time,  Dr.  Edward  S.  Squibb,  of  Brooklyn,  New  York, 
but  be  it  said  to  his  credit,  since  he  was  a  painstaking 
chemist,  he  determined  to  “sacrifice  his  economic 
opportunities  to  his  professional  ideals,  by  accepting  the 
findings  of  Dowdeswell  and  others,  and  by  excluding 
preparations  of  coca  from  his  pharmaceutical  list.77  5  It 
would  not  be  consistent  with  the  fundamental  instincts  of 
human  nature,  however,  to  sacrifice  the  source  of  such 
commercial  advantages  without  a  struggle.  In  1882,  Dr. 

Squibb  contributed  various  articles  to  the  “Ephemeris,77 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  22. 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  21—22. 

3  Steele,  Proceedings  Am.  Pharm.  Ass.,  1878,  p.  788. 

4  Squibb,  Ephemeris,  July  1884,  p.  600  ff. 

5  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  20. 


270 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Brooklyn,  in  which  he  communicated  his  decision  to  give 
up  the  manufacture  of  preparations  of  coca,  but  at  the 
same  time  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  competent 
authorities  might  be  conflicting  and  contradictory,  in  thera¬ 
peutics  as  well  as  elsewhere,  and  expressed  his  belief 
that  the  seemingly  economic  blunder  of  exploiting  coca 
might  not  have  been  a  blunder  after  all.1  Scarcely  was 
this  article  given  for  publication  before  the  scientific  and 
professional  world  was  confounded  by  the  announcement 
“that  a  medical  student  named  Roller,  of  Vienna,  had 
discovered  that  a  solution  of  hydrochlorate  of  cocaine  was 
possessed  of  marvelous  qualities  as  a  local  anesthetic.”  2 
This  intelligence  was  published  or  referred  to  in  every 
pharmaceutical  and  medical  journal  in  America.  Dr.  D. 
Agnew  in  the  “Medical  Record,”  October  18,  1884,  p.  438, 
wrote  as  follows:  “‘We  have  today  used  the  agent  in  our 
clinic  at  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  [New  York] 
with  most  astonishing  and  satisfactory  results.  If  future  use 
should  prove  to  be  equally  satisfactory,  we  will  be  in 
possession  of  an  agent  for  the  prevention  of  suffering  in 
ophthalmic  operations  of  inestimable  value/”  3  Dr.  Squibb 
now  began  with  zeal  a  new  investigation  of  coca  and  its 
alkaloid,  “his  process  of  manufacture  being  yet  a  standard, 
and  his  writings  on  cocaine  being  yet  an  authority.” 4  A 
great  reaction  followed  in  favor  of  the  use  of  cocaine,  and 
though,  in  the  beginning,  it  was  recommended  only 

1  Squibb,  Epliemeris,  July  1884,  p.  600  ff. 

2  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  23. 

3  Ibid. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  24. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  271 


in  operations  on  the  cornea  of  the  eye,1  later  experiments 
proved  it  to  be  efficacious  in  dentistry  and  minor  surgical 
operations  for  dulling  the  ends  of  the  sensory  nerves 
and  so  adding  greatly  to  the  comfort  of  humanity. 

Another  of  the  greatest  blessings  to  mankind  was 
thus  discovered  as  a  result  of  religious  ceremonials,  later 
used  by  savages  themselves  for  another  purpose  and  after 
remaining  a  possession  of  nature  people  for  many  years,  at 
last  brought  to  the  attention  of  the  civilized  world,  tested, 
then  used  by  scientists  with  a  still  different  object  in 
view,  and  finally  admitted  into  the  pharmacopoeia  of 
cultured  races. 

In  Africa,  Asia,  South  America,  and  Australia,  an 
extract  is  used  for  poisoning  arrows,  the  source  of 
which  for  the  most  part  “is  kept  among  the  secrets 
of  the  medicine  men  or  chiefs.” 2  How  the  medicine 
men  discovered  their  poisons  is  not  clear.  But 
that  they  do  not  always  succeed  in  keeping  the 
secret  is  evident.  For  it  is  told  that  “aconite  has  been 
widely  employed  as  an  arrow  poison.”  3  Aconite  is  still  used 
for  that  purpose  among  the  tribes  of  certain  islands  of  the 
Pacific,  and  also  among  the  Malay  tribes  of  southeastern 
Asia.  It  was  brought  to  the  attention  of  explorers  and 
travellers  in  those  regions,4  and  was  designated  in  the 
thirteenth  century  in  a  work  published  by  the  Welsh 

Manuscript  Society,  called  “The  Physicians  of  Myddvai,” 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18, 
pp.  23  —  24. 

2  Reference  Handbook  to  Medical  Sciences,  I,  p.  635. 

3  Fliickiger  and  Handbury,  “Pharmacographia,”  p.  8. 

4  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  113. 


272 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


as  a  plant  which  every  physician  is  to  know.1  Storck,  of 
Vienna,  introduced  the  drug  into  the  regular  practice  of 
medicine,  about  1762, 2  and  now  it  is  a  well  known  remedy 
as  a  cardiac  depressant,  anti-pyretic,  and  diaphoretic.3 

Strophanthus  is  another  case  in  point.  Though  this 
plant  was  described  by  De  Candolle  in  1802,  it  was  not 
until  the  early  sixties  that  it  came  to  the  general  notice  of 
Europeans  as  being  one  of  the  arrow  poisons  used  among 
the  aborigines  of  western  4  and  equatorial  Africa,  so  deadly 
as  to  paralyze  the  heart  at  the  slightest  wound  made  by  an 
arrow.5  It  is  said  that  in  Somaliland,  Africa,  the  savage, 
in  order  to  satisfy  his  mind  as  to  the  virulence  of  the 
poison,  draws  blood  from  his  own  body,  pours  it  into  a 
pool,  and  applies  the  poison  to  the  lower  end  of  the  pool. 
Then  he  watches  the  coagulating  effect  from  below 
upward.6  Livingstone,  the  missionary,  and  Stanley,  the 
explorer,  upon  observing  the  powerful  effects  of  the  drug, 
determined  to  have  it  chemically  examined  and  tested. 
The  result  was  that  Sharpey  in  1862,  Pelikan  in  1865,  and 
Fraser  in  1871,  discovered  that  the  strophanthus  is  a 
powerful  cardiac  agent,7  and  its  alkaloid  is  now  much 
lauded  as  a  cardiac  stimulant  when  given  intravenously. 

The  calabar  bean  was  brought  to  the  attention  of 
European  explorers  because  of  its  use  in  ordeals.  And 

1  Fliickiger  and  Handbury,  “Pharmacograpbia,”  p.  8. 

2  Ibid. 

3  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  American  Medical 
Association,  p.  13. 

4  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  84. 

5  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  113. 

G  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  85. 

7  Ibid. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  273 


concerning  those  ceremonies,  it  is  said,  “The  administration 
of  ordeals  has  been  much  in  the  hands  of  the  priests,  and 
they  are  more  often  than  not  worked  on  a  theological 
basis,  the  intervention  of  a  deity  being  invoked  and 
assumed  to  take  place  even  when  the  process  is  in  its  nature 

one  of  symbolic  magic _ Among  various  drugs  used  in 

different  parts  of  Africa  are  the  mbundu  root,  and  the 
calabar  bean.  The  sorcerers  who  adminster  this  ordeal 
have  in  their  hands  a  power  of  inflicting  or  remitting 
judicial  murder,  giving  them  boundless  influence.” 1  In  the 
Niger  Valley,  when  a  person  is  accused  of  witchcraft  or 
other  grave  crime,  he  is  sentenced  to  eat  the  seeds  of  the 
calabar  bean.  If  death  follows,  that  is  proof  of  the  guilt 
of  the  accused.2  The  drug  was  first  made  known  in 
England  by  Dr.  W.  F.  Daniel!,  about  1840,  and  in  1846, 
he  alluded  to  it  in  a  paper  read  by  him  before  an 
ethnological  society.3  In  1859,  a  missionary  on  the  West 
Coast  of  Africa  by  the  name  of  W.  C.  Thomson,  sent  a 
specimen  of  the  plant  to  Professor  Balfour  of  Edinburgh, 
“who  figured  it  and  described  it  as  a  type  of  a  new 
genus.”4  Both  before  and  after  that  date,  the  drug  was 
chemically  examined  in  the  light  of  its  use  in  the  Niger 
valley,  with  the  result  that  a  new  and  valuable  remedy 
for  eye  troubles,5  and  for  certain  exaggerated  nervous 
conditions  was  discovered.6 

1  Encyc.  Brit.,  Eleventh  Edition,  Vol.  XX,  pp.  173—174. 

2  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  113. 

3  Fluckiger  and  Handbury,  “  Pharmacographia,”  p.  191.  4  Ibid. 

5  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  American  Medical 
Association,  p.  106. 

6  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  113. 


19 


274 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


In  his  efforts  to  impress  his  people  with  the  fact  that 
he  was  possessed,  or  in  his  attempts  to  propitiate  or 
exorcise  the  spirits,  the  medicine  man  thus  blundered  upon 
many  remedies  that  were  efficacious  in  certain  combination 
of  symptoms.  Those  remedies  were  transmitted  from 
generation  to  generation,  were  communicated  to  other 
members  of  the  caste,  came  into  more  frequent  use,  and 
finally  obtained  general  recognition  in  the  savage  materia 
medica.  By  a  process  of  selection,  an  empirical  system 
of  medicine  grew  up,  by  which  the  medicine  man  was 
able  to  treat  successfully  some  classes  of  sickness,  although 
without  any  intelligent  idea  of  the  process  involved,1 
and  in  spite  of  illusory  major  premises.  He  also,  as  already 
has  been  said,  discovered  poisonous  plants  and  herbs,  which 
brought  death  to  the  accused  at  the  ordeal,  and  on  the  tips 
of  arrows  carried  venom  to  the  veins  of  enemies.  Later  and 
more  scientific  ages  took  up  the  processes  and  results  upon 
which  the  medicine  man  had  blindly  stumbled,  applied 
them  sometimes  for  the  same,  and  sometimes  for  different 
purposes,  and  the  issue  is  a  complicated  and  elaborate  system 
of  medicine,  capable  in  its  entirety,  according  to  modern 
science,  of  scientific  explanation  and  demonstration,  but 
which  may  appear  to  the  scientist  of  the  future  as  child¬ 
like  and  illogical  as  does  the  system  of  the  savage  to  the 
investigator  of  the  present  day.2 

In  this  connexion,  Mrs.  S.  S.  Allison  says  of  the 
Similkameen  Indians  of  British  Columbia  (p.  112  supra), 

1  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.,  VII, 
p.  328  ff. 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  323  ff. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  275 


“Setting  aside  the  mysterious  part,  the  doctors  have 
some  really  valuable  medicines.  People  apparently 
in  the  last  stages  of  consumption  have  been  cured 
by  them.  For  blood-spitting  they  use  a  decoction 
of  fibrous  roots  of  the  spruce,  for  rheumatism,  the 
root  of  soap  berry.  The  berry  itself  is  used  with 
success  as  a  stomachic.  A  decoction  of  swamp  poplar 
bark  and  spruce  roots  is  used  in  syphilis.  The  wild-cherry 
bark  and  tansy  root  is  much  used  by  the  women.  The  wild- 
cherry  is  used  both  as  a  tonic  and  expectorant,  and  is 
good  for  consumptives.  There  is  a  plant  resembling  the 
anemone,  the  root  of  which  when  bruised  makes  a  power¬ 
ful  blister;  and  another  resembling  the  geranium,  the  root 
of  which  will  cure  ringworm  and  dry  up  an  old  sore.  The 
inner  bark  of  the  pine  is  used  early  in  the  spring  when  the 
sap  is  rising;  the  tree  nettle  is  used  as  a  physic,  also  as 
a  wash  for  the  hair,  rendering  it  thick,  soft,  and  glossy. 
Wild  strawberry  acts  as  an  astringent.” 1 

Mr.  E.  Palmer  in  “Notes  on  Some  Australian  Tribes,” 
in  the  thirteenth  volume  of  the  Journal  of  the  Anthro¬ 
pological  Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  says  that 
“the  blacks  appear  to  have  possessed  a  considerable 
knowledge  of  indigenous  plants,”  for  use  as  food,  for 
poisoning  fish,  “and  also  for  healing  and  medicinal 
purposes.” 2  One  of  the  plants  mentioned  is  Melaleuca 
Leucadendron,  the  young  leaves  of  which  are  bruised  in 
water  and  drunk  for  headache  and  colds.3  Berdoe  quotes 

1  Allison,  “An  Account  of  the  Similkameen  Indians  of  British 
Columbia,”  J.  A.  I.,  1891,  p.  311. 

2  Op.  Cit.,  p.  310. 

3  Palmer,  “Notes  on  Some  Australian  Tribes,”  J.  A.  I.  XIII,  p.  321. 

19* 


276  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Stille  to  the  effect  that  the  oil  from  this  tree 
“‘is  of  marked  utility  in  cases  of  nervous  vomiting, 
nervous  dysphagia,  dyspnoea,  and  hiccup.’”  1  Among 
some  nature  peoples,  a  wash  is  made  from  the  bark 
of  the  Excoecaria  Parviflora  or  the  gutta-percha  tree,  and 
applied  externally  to  all  parts  of  the  body  for  pains  and 
sickness.2  The  stems  of  Moschosma  Polystachium  are 
bruised  up  in  water  and  used  for  headache  and  fevers.3 
The  leaves  and  stems  of  Plectranthus  Congestus  are 
employed  as  medicine.4  The  leaf  of  Pterocaulon  Glan- 
dulosus  is  crushed  in  water  and  applied  for  medical 
purposes;5  and  Gnaphalium  Luteo-album  is  among  the 
medicinal  plants.6  Concerning  the  last  named  plant  Berdoe 
says,  “Several  of  this  species  are  used  in  European 
medicine  in  bronchitis  and  diarrhoea.” 7  Eucalyptus  Glo¬ 
bulus  is  administered  by  the  aborigines  of  Australia 
as  a  remedy  for  intermittent  fever.8  Berdoe  quotes 
Stille  as  saying  ‘“the  discovery  of  its  virtues  was  acci¬ 
dental.  It  is  alleged  that... the  crew  of  a  French  man- 
of-war,  having  lost  a  number  of  men  with  pernicious  fever, 
put  into  Botany  Bay,  where  the  remaining  sick  were 
treated  with  eucalyptus  and  rapidly  recovered/”  9  In  1866, 
Dr.  Ramel  of  Valencia  introduced  the  remedy  to  the 

1  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  34. 

2  J.  A.  I.,  XIII,  p.  321. 

3  J.  A.  I.,  XIII,  p.  323. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  322. 

5  Ibid. 

6  Ibid. 

7  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  34. 

8  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  36. 

9  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  36. 


ch.  vii  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  277 


Academy  of  Medicine,  thus  bringing  the  drug  to  the 
attention  of  the  profession,1  and  the  oil  is  now  used  as  an 
antiseptic  and  expectorant.2 

In  1535 — 1536,  the  Iroquois  around  Quebec  treated  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  crew  of  Jacques  Cartier,  who  had  been  taken 
with  scurvy,  with  an  infusion  of  the  bark  and  leaves  of  the 
hemlock  spruce.  The  treatment  was  a  complete  success.3 
In  1657,  the  same  tribe  recommended  the  sassafras  leaf 
to  the  French  at  Onondaga  for  the  closing  of  all  kinds 
of  wounds.  It  was  tried  for  that  purpose  and  pronounced 
“marvelous”  in  its  effects.4  Sanguinaria  Canadensis,5  or 
blood  root,  was  used  by  our  Indians  for  coloring  their 
garments,  and  also  as  an  application  to  indolent  ulcers. 
The  early  settlers  employed  it  for  like  purposes,6  and 
after  a  time  it  attracted  the  attention  of  physicians.  It 
was  introduced  finally  into  the  United  States  Pharma¬ 
copoeia  as  a  remedy  for  certain  forms  of  dyspepsia, 
bronchitis,  croup,  and  asthma.7  Exogonium  Purge,  or 
jalap,  is  the  gift  of  Mexico,8  named  for  the  city  of 
Xalapa.9  The  early  Spanish  voyagers  learned  its  cathartic 
properties  from  the  natives,10  and  took  large  quantities 

1  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  36. 

2  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  American  Medical 
Association,  p.  66. 

3  Garrison,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  21. 

4  Ibid. 

5  Bently,  “New  American  Remedies,”  Pharmaceutical  Journal, 
IV,  pp.  263  ff. 

6  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  73. 

7  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  37. 

8  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Loyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  51. 

9  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  38 

10  Lloyd,  “Hist.  Veg.  Drugs,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  18,  p.  52. 


278 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


of  it  in  the  sixteenth  century  to  Europe.  It  stood 
the  test  successfully,  was  botanically  examined  and 
described  by  Coxe,  of  Philadelphia,  about  1829,1  and  is 
now  recognized  as  a  powerful  purgative,  in  addition  to 
being  “used  for  the  purpose  of  removing  water  from 
the  tissues  in  the  treatment  of  dropsy.” 2 

The  foregoing  are  merely  a  few  examples  of  valuable 
medical  remedies  that  are  used  by  primitive  peoples,  and 
upon  many  of  which  science  has  placed  the  seal  of  its 
approval. 

Mooney,  in  his  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,” 
employs  a  suggestive  but  naive  method  of  showing  how 
some  remedies  originated,  and  how  others  doubtless 
originated  if  we  could  project  our  knowledge  far  enough 
into  the  past  to  discover  it.3  For  that  purpose  he  selects 
the  United  States  Dispensatory  as  an  authority.  Then 
follows  a  list  of  twenty  remedies  upon  which  the  medicine 
men  of  the  Cherokees  had  blundered.  A  comparison 
between  the  Cherokee  pharmacopoeia  and  the  United 
States  Dispensatory  shows,  according  to  Mooney,  that 
about  one  third  of  those  twenty  remedies  was  correctly 
used.4 

It  must  be  said,  however,  that  after  a  diligent 
comparison  of  ^the  list  of  drugs  named  by  Mooney  with  a 
later  edition  of  the  United  States  Dispensatory  the  author 

1  Fliickiger  and  Handbury,  “Pharmacographia,”  p.  444. 

2  “Useful  Drugs,”  Prepared  and  issued  by  the  American  Medical 
Association,  p.  50. 

3  Mooney,  “Sacred  Formulas  of  the  Cherokees,”  Bur.  Eth.  VII, 
pp.  323  ff. 

4  Ibid.,  p.  323. 


ch.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  279 


found  one  of  the  five  drugs  which  Mooney  says  were  used 
by  theCherokees  for  the  very  purpose  “for  which  it  is  best 
adapted,”  that  is  number  twelve,  or  Hepatica  Actiloba, 
not  mentioned.  Mooney  probably  used  an  earlier  edition  of 
the  Dispensatory.  As  regards  the  other  members  of  his 
list,  Mooney  is  correct  according  to  the  later  edition  of  the 
Dispensatory.  Those  drugs  may  not  be  applied  to  any  great 
extent  by  the  twentieth  century  practitioner.  But  they 
are  down  in  the  Dispensatory  as  possessing  medical 
properties.  Assuming,  therefore,  that  the  list  given  is  a 
fair  epitome  of  what  the  medicine  men  of  the  Cherokee 
Indians  knew  of  the  application  of  drugs  as  reme¬ 
dies,  it  is  marvelous  that  in  spite  of  the  false 
reasoning  by  which  they  reached  the  results,  in  spite  of 
their  illusory  major  premises,  and,  one  might  almost  say, 
in  spite  of  themselves,  nearly  one  third  of  the  medicaments 
applied  by  those  primitive  doctors  had,  and  Mill  have, 
real  medical  properties. 

It  is  not  intended  to  assert  that  all  the  drugs  in  the 
pharmacopoeia  of  civilized  people  were  discovered  as  the 
results  of  happy  accident.  Some  remedies  owe  their  origin 
to  deliberate  study  and  experiment.  “It  is  difficult,  however, 
to  tell  how  far  the  use  of  drugs  in  modern  practice  is  the 
result  of  scientific  activity,  and  how  far  it  is  an  inheritance 
from  the  folk  remedies  of  former  times.  The  former  state 
grades  into  the  latter.”  1  But  if  one  takes  the  experience 
of  the  Cherokee  nation  as  a  typical  example, — and  there  is 
no  reason  why  one  should  not,  since  it  is  the  universal 

1  True,  Jour.  Am.  Folk  Lore,  April  1901,  p.  107. 


280 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


tendency  of  man  to  react  in  a  similar  manner  against 
his  environment, — the  “recognized”  drugs,  the  story  of 
whose  origin  is  lost  in  the  history  of  the  tribes  in  which 
they  originated,  must  have  come  into  use  among  primitive 
peoples  in  the  far  distant  past  as  a  result  of  a  series  of 
blunders  on  the  part  of  the  medicine  man  in  treating  sick¬ 
ness  in  accordance  with  the  ghost  theory.  The  primi¬ 
tive  doctor  to  be  sure  applied  many  other  drugs  which 
could  not  survive  the  test  of  time.  Later  and  more 
enlightened  peoples  separated  the  wheat  from  the  chaff, 
science  attaching  the  signature  of  its  authority  to  the 
former,  and  the  result  is  a  fairly  correct  pharmacopoeia, 
not  the  work  of  any  one  age  or  nation,  but  the  product  of 
the  blundering,  criticism,  and  elimination  of  the  centuries. 

To  Newman’s  inquiry,1  therefore,  “Who  first  dis¬ 
covered  the  medicinal  herbs,  which  from  earliest  times  have 
been  our  resource  against  disease?”  the  answers  may 
be  found  in  several  writers,  two  of  whom  may  be  taken 
as  typical.  Biart  says,  “Our  materia  rnedica  owes  tobacco, 
gum-copal,  liquid  amber,  sarsaparilla,  resin  of  tecamaca, 
jalap,  and  huaca  to”  the  medicine  men  of  “the  Aztecs.”  2 
Ratzel  says :  “Guiacum,  ipecacuanha,  and  certain  purgatives 

_ first  became  known  through  the  Indian  medicine 

men.”3  To  Barton’s  reflection,  “If  the  distance  of  time 
or  the  darkness  of  history  did  not  prevent  us  from  ascer¬ 
taining  who  first  discovered  the  properties  of  the  poppy - 

if  we  could  tell  who  was  that  native  of  Peru  that  first 

1  Vide  p.  227. 

2  Biart,  “Aztecs,”  p.  285. 

3  Ratzel,  “Hist,  of  Mankind,”  II,  p.  155. 


cH.  vn  THE  HISTORY  OF  MEDICAL  REMEDIES  281 


experienced  and  revealed  to  his  countrymen  the  powers 
of  the  bark  in  curing  intermittent  fevers,  would  not  the 
civilized  nations  of  mankind  with  one  accord  concur  in 
erecting  durable  monuments  of  granite  and  bronze  to  such 
benefactors  of  the  species  ?” 1  replies  may  likewise  be 
found.  Waddle  writes,  “It  was  at  first  to  the  end 
of  producing  a  state  of  religious  ecstasy  that  the 
intoxicating  mushroom,  mistletoe,  rue,  ivy,  mandrake, 
hemp,  opium,  and  stramonium  were  used 2  and  Bourke 
says  that  “the  world  owes  a  large  debt  to  the  medicine 
men  of  America,  who  first  discovered  the  virtues  of  coca, 
sarsaparilla,  jalap,  cinchona,  and  guiacum.”  3 

SUMMARY.  It  has  been  shown  in  this  chapter  that  the 
medicine  man,  with  the  intent  of  dealing  with  the  spirits, 
chanced  to  make  use  of  roots  or  herbs  with  genuine 
remedial  properties.  He  preserved  and  transmitted  that 
knowledge.  In  course  of  the  ages,  those  remedies  were 
used  with  physiological  rather  than  magical  purposes  in 
view.  As  time  passed  the  useful  drugs  were  differentiated 
from  the  worthless  until  ultimately  a  materia  medica 
resulted.  Business,  scientific,  and,  not  infrequently, 
religious  interests  have  led  members  of  civilized  races  to 
visit  savage  peoples.  The  remedies  of  the  latter  have 
arrested  attention,  have  been  tried  and  tested,  and,  in  some 

1  Barton,  “  Collections  for  an  Essay  toward  a  Materia  Medica  in 
the  United  States,”  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  No.  I,  p.  43. 

2  Waddle,  “Miracles  of  Healing,”  Am.  Jour,  of  Psychology, 
XX,  p.  235. 

3  Bourke,  “Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache,”  Bur.  Eth., 
IX,  p.  471. 


282 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


cases,  have  gained  entrance  into  the  pharmacopoeia  of  the 
most  highly  cultured  societies.  The  therapeutical  agents 

to  which  men  have  been  led  by  experimentation  have 
been  added,  and  the  present  elaborate  materia  medica  has 
eventuated. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


CONCLUSION. 

it  may  be  said  by  way  of  conclusion  that  a  systematic 
study  of  the  character  and  evolution  of  shamanism  should 
not  be  without  interest  to  the  scientist. 

The  scientific  principle  that  man,  in  a  corresponding 
environment,  although  living  in  different  regions  of  the 
earth,  and  at  different  stages  of  the  history  of  the  world, 
reacts  in  a  similar  manner,  has  received  exemplification  in 
this  study.  It  has  been  shown  that,  as  a  result  of  his 
reaction,  there  has  been  developed  a  special  represent¬ 
ative  of  the  imaginary  environment,  who,  in  spite  of  minor 
differences,  is  fundamentally  one  and  the  same  the  world 
over,  call  him  by  whatsoever  name  you  choose.  This 
intelligence  should  be  illuminative  to  the  sociologist. 

Of  particular  interest  to  the  physician  and  surgeon 
should  be  the  knowledge  of  the  connexion  between  his 
science  and  superstition.  The  noble  profession  of  medicine 
had  its  beginning  in  the  blind  gropings  of  the  medicine 
man  in  his  efforts  to  expel  or  appease  malicious  or  angry 
spirits.  In  Egypt  those  primitive  notions  and  methods 
continued,  and  the  empiricists,  fettered  by  the  conservatism 
of  the  cult,  were  content  with  the  traditional  prescriptions, 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation,  not  making  any 
effort  to  develop  the  science  other  than  the  knowledge 
of  embalming  demanded.  In  Assyria  no  further  advance 


284 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


was  made;  for  the  extraction  of  ominous  livers  of  sheep 
was  no  more  useful  in  teaching  dissection  to  the  Baby¬ 
lonians  than  was  mummification  adapted  to  impart  that 
knowledge  to  the  Hamites.  On  mounting  a  step  or  two 
higher,  however,  the  Greeks  are  found  laying  a  firmer  foun¬ 
dation  for  practical  medicine,  and  learning  anatomy  from 
dead,  even  from  living  bodies;  and  henceforth  medicine 
leaves  the  apron  strings  of  its  mother,  superstition, 
receiving,  as  time  advanced,  public  hygiene  from  the 
Jews,  and  the  beginnings  of  operative  surgery  from  the 
Hindus.1  Hippocrates  taught  that  “no  disease  whatever 
came  from  the  gods,  but  was  in  every  instance  traceable 
to  a  natural  and  intelligible  cause.”  2  Greek  medicine, 
therefore,  “was  science  in  the  making,  with  Roman 
medicine  as  an  offshoot,  Byzantium  as  a  cold-storage  plant, 
and  Islam  as  travelling  agent.  The  best  side  of  mediaeval 
medicine  was  the  organization  of  hospitals,  sick  nursing, 
medical  legislation,  and  education.” 3  The  birth  of  anatomy 
as  a  science  occured  during  the  Renaissance  period,  and 
the  same  era  marked  the  growth  of  surgery  as  a  handicraft ; 
the  beginnings  of  pathology,  instrumental  diagnosis,  and 
experimental  surgery  are  to  be  traced  to  the  eighteenth 
century ;  while— to  the  glory  of  the  nineteenth  century  be 
it  said — during  that  period  scientific  surgery  was  created, 
medicine  as  a  science  was  organized,  and  advancement 
along  every  line  was  made.4 

1  Garrison,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  54. 

2  Berdoe,  “Healing  Art,”  p.  173. 

3  Garrison,  “Hist.  Med.,”  p.  594. 

4  Ibid. 


ch.  vm  CONCLUSION  285 


Science  thus  has  come  out  of  superstition.1  Medicine 
had  its  origin  in  the  ghost  theory  of  disease.  That  theory 
obtained  until  it  was  contradicted  by  later  observation 
and  criticism.  Then  another  theory  was  advanced,  which 
in  turn  was  supplanted  by  another,  until  finally  after 
centuries  of  blundering,  stumbling,  progressing,  retro¬ 
gressing,  and  again  progressing,  the  germ  theory,  which  is 
supposed  to  be  the  last  word  regarding  the  cause  of 
disease,  was  advanced,  our  splendid  system  of  the  medical 
sciences  following  in  its  train. 

Analogous  to  the  origination  of  medicine  in  magic 
is  that  of  chemistry  in  alchemy.  The  mediaeval  alchemists 
taught  that  by  means  of  the  “philosopher's  stone”  baser 
metals  could  be  transformed  into  gold.  That  theory  caused 
many  persons  to  spend  their  lives  in  search  of  the  much- 
coveted  object.  The  stone  was  not  found,  but  as  a  result 
of  the  Herculean  industry  of  those  ancient  savants, 
sulphuric  acid,  alcohol,  and  ammonia  were  discovered.  The 
idea  of  the  existence  of  the  “philosopher's  stone”  must 
be  called  superstitious,  but  it  led  to  the  pursuit  of  truth 
by  experiment.  That  method  as  the  years  passed  was 
freed  from  its  absurdities,  and  thus  the  science  of  chemistry 
has  come  from  alchemy.2 

Astronomy  is  another  science  that  had  its  beginning  in 
superstition.3  The  ancient  Chaldeans  believed  the  stars 
and  planets  to  exercise  such  an  influence  over  human  life 
and  events  that  they  systematically  observed  and  recorded 

1  Vide  pp.  129  and  149.  2  Tylor,  “Anthropology,”  p.  328.  3  Vide 
pp.  129—130. 


286 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


the  location  of  the  heavenly  bodies  as  indicating  lucky  and 
unlucky  days,  as  well  as  portending  the  coming  of  pesti¬ 
lence  and  the  issues  of  battle.  Even  in  comparatively 
modern  times,  men  of  eminence  along  their  special  line  of 
activity,  as,  for  example,  Tycho  Brahe  and  Kepler,  have 
disseminated  the  doctrine  that  the  planets  foretold  the 
destinies  of  men.  That  belief  is  called  by  later  generations 
superstition,  but  the  fact  remains  that  it  led  to  observations 
and  calculations  by  which  the  motions  of  the  planets  them¬ 
selves  were  foretold,  and  thus  astrology  prepared  the 
way  for  astronomy.1 

Equally  striking  has  been  the  evolution  of  the  medicine 
man  in  his  character  of  religious  leader.  Since  this  subject 
is  to  form  the  basis  of  a  future  discussion,  it  can  only  be 
said  here  that  in  the  capacity  of  priest  the  shaman  was  least 
admirable.  Whatever  good  he  accomplished  as  physician 
and  counsellor,  his  efforts  in  interceding  with  the  higher 
powers  were  of  course  futile.  But  the  medicine  man 
gradually  became  the  teacher2  of  the  young  men  of  the 
nation,  and  the  almoner  of  the  race.  Almost  down  to  the 
present  time,  education  and  charity  are  largely  in  the 
hands  of  the  religious  class.  In  this  generation  the  Church 
has  shown  a  strong  tendency,  which  is  still  growing,  to 
emphasize  and  strengthen  its  sociological  work  by  means 
of  club  rooms,  gymnasiums,  summer  camps,  schools  and 
colleges,  medical  missions,  and  welfare  work  in  general. 
Organized  religion  is  thus  still  a  great  civilizing  agency. 

1  Tylor,  “Anthropology,”  p.  341. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  German  Edition,  pp.  317—329. 


ch.  viii  CONCLUSION  287 


Purely  as  religious  teachers  both  clergymen  and  priests 
of  this  age  have  ideals  so  far  above  those  of  their 
sociological  predecessor  that  the  connexion  between  the 
old  and  the  new  would  seem  fanciful  but  for  the  investi¬ 
gations  of  science. 

The  beneficent  effects  of  the  dominance  of  the 
the  medicine  man  are  far  from  being  exhausted  in  the 
foregoing  recital.  In  the  cosmic  process  of  the  centuries, 
the  shaman  and  his  associates  unconsciously,  uninten¬ 
tionally  and  incidentally,  constituted  a  mighty  socializing 
force.  The  scientific  justification  of  the  religious  element 
in  evolving  society  may  be  urged  for  the  following  reasons. 

By  maintaining  a  common  propitiation  of  the  deities,  the 
exponents  of  religion  have  furnished  a  principle  of  societal 
cohesion.  Worship  of  the  same  gods  tends  to  unify  a 
society.1  The  Ostyaks,  for  example,  are  said  to  be  drawn 
together  through  using  the  same  sacred  places  and  yielding 
obedience  to  the  same  priest.2 

Religious  leaders  have  performed  a  social  good  by 
checking  within  tribes  the  tendencies  to  internal  warfare. 
While  they  have  frequently  incited  attacks  on  alien  peoples 
and  tribes  of  another  religion,  those  leaders  in  the  average 
case  have  checked  hostilities  between  groups  of  the  same 
blood  and  of  the  same  religion.3  The  reproof  of  Moses  to 
the  Israelite  who  struck  a  brother  slave  in  Egypt,  “Where¬ 
fore  smitest  thou  thy  fellow?”  4  will  occur  to  the  reader  as 
an  illustration  of  this  point. 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  pp.  96,  97,  141. 

2  Lathrop,  “Descriptive  Sociology,”  I,  p.  456, 

3  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  141.  4  Exodus,  2  : 13. 


288 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


By  strengthening  the  habit  of  self-restraint,  the  medi¬ 
cine  man  and  his  religious  successors  have  done  a  praise¬ 
worthy  work.  When  in  return  for  their  professional  offices, 
the  representatives  of  the  gods  demanded  food,  clothing, 
or  other  commodity,  they  compelled  uncivilized  peoples  to 
give  up  something  which  was  good  to  obtain  some  greater 
good.  That  discipline,  enforced  by  shamanism,  was  of 
assistance  in  the  development  of  foresight,  or  in  other  words, 
increased  the  willingness  to  sacrifice  the  present  for  the 
sake  of  the  future.  It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  any  motive 
other  than  fear  of  the  imaginary  environment  could  so 
have  strengthened  the  habit  of  self-restraint.  And  this  habit 
is  an  essential  factor  for  the  regulation  of  conduct  both  for 
self  benefit  and  for  the  interests  of  other  people.1 

The  priest  class  has  been  of  social  service  in  that  its 
members  have  approved  of  enforced  labor,  which  is  the 
only  means  of  training  men  to  apply  themselves  to 
tasks.2  Savage  peoples  in  the  unregulated  state  do  not 
have  the  principle  of  co-operation.  This  unity  of  effort 
is  indispensable  to  fitness  for  societal  life.  Authority  is 
necessary  to  establish  cooperation.  Undisciplined  nature 
man  can  be  made  to  work  with  his  fellows  by  the  appli¬ 
cation  of  only  the  most  powerful  means.  The  represen¬ 
tative  of  the  gods  has  exercised  the  strongest  restraint 
possible  in  that  he  has  impressed  upon  the  minds  of 
common  men  that  if  the  commands  of  the  deities  are  dis¬ 
obeyed,  vengeance  will  most  surely  fall.  Since  the  shaman 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  pp.  141—143. 

2  Ibid.,  Ill,  p.  144. 


ch.  vm 


CONCLUSION 


289 


is  either  the  king,  or  has  been  forced  into  submission  to 
the  ruler,  or  works  in  co-operation  with  him,  it  can  readily 
be  seen  that  the  religious  leader  has  used  his  spiritual 
power  to  re-enforce  political  power.  The  application  of 
coercion  for  societal  good  is  clearly  manifested  in  the 
development  of  the  industrial  organization.  The  building 
up  of  this  institution  would  not  have  been  possible  except 
through  hard,  continuous  labor.  What  other  than  a  long- 
lasting  and  vigorous  coercion  could  have  compelled  the  idle 
and  improvident  savage  to  do  useful  work?  And  in  this 
compulsion,  shamanism  was  a  powerful  instrumentality.1 

The  medicine  man,  and  the  principles  for  which  he 
stands,  have  always  formed  the  conservative  element  in 
group,  tribe,  or  nation.  There  is  a  place  in  every  society 
for  the  spirit  of  stability.  Shamanism,  by  the  preservation  of 
beliefs,  sentiments,  and  usages,  which  by  survival  have  been 
proved  approximately  fit  for  the  requirements  of  the  time, 
has  been  useful  in  maintaining  and  strengthening  societal 
bonds,  and,  therefore,  in  conserving  societal  aggregates.2 

The  institution  of  shamanism  has  served  a  social 
purpose  by  forming  a  system  for  the  regulation  of  conduct 
which  co-operates  with  the  civil  administrative  system. 
The  prime  requisite  for  societal  progress  is  societal  union. 
Nature  man  possesses  so  many  anti-societal  traits — impul¬ 
siveness,  improvidence,  an  intolerance  of  restraint,  a  lack 
of  sociality,  an  extended  sense  of  blood  revenge,  a  paucity 
of  altruistic  feelings,  and  an  extreme  resistance  to  change— 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  pp.  142 — 143. 

2  Ibid.,  Ill,  p.  102 

20 


290 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


which  militate  against  societal  co-operation,  that  nothing 
but  an  absolute  submission  to  secular  and  sacred  authority 
is  strong  enough  to  hold  him  in  check.1  Shamanism, 
therefore,  has  contributed  to  social  progress  in  that  it 
has  co-operated  with  the  civil  power  in  enforcing  sub¬ 
mission  to  constituted  political  authority.2  An  illustration 
of  this  was  observed  by  the  writer  at  Bontoc,  Mountain 
Province,  Northern  Luzon,  Philippine  Islands.  A  Bontoc 
Igorot  was  serving  in  the  Constabulary  when  he  sickened 
and  died  from  pneumonia.  At  the  funeral,  his  relatives, 
believing  that  he  had  been  murdered  by  the  Benguet 
Igorots,  traditional  enemies  of  their  clan,  nearly  prevailed 
upon  the  Bontoc  people  to  make  a  head-hunting  raid  upon 
the  villages  of  Benguet  for  blood  revenge.  The  authorities 
assembled  the  Bontoc  priests  and  explained  to  them  the 
real  cause  of  the  death.  Those  shamans  then  persuaded 
the  angry  relatives  that  their  suspicions  were  unfounded, 
and  the  trouble  was  averted. 

The  shamanic  class,  furthermore,  has  aided  social 
progress  by  demanding  obedience,  first  to  the  deities  and 
then  to  earthly  rulers.  This  can  be  seen  incidentally  from 
the  practical  effects  of  the  working  of  the  taboo.  Among 
savage  peoples,  tabooed  articles  are  primarily  those  conse¬ 
crated  to  a  spirit.  For  an  individual,  therefore,  to  disregard 
a  taboo  is  to  rob  the  divinity.3  Thus  it  is  believed  in  New 
Zealand  that  both  gods  and  man  punish  those  who  violate 
a  taboo.  The  angry  spirits  inflict  sickness  and  death ;  human 

1  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  I,  op.  56—74.  2  Ibid.,  Ill, 
pp.  105—106.  3  Ibid.,  Ill,  p.  144. 


ch.  vm 


CONCLUSION 


291 


agencies  visit  upon  the  transgressor  confiscation  of 
property  and  expatriation  or  death.  But  terror  of  the 
gods  is  more  effective  in  upholding  the  taboo  than  fear 
of  men.1  A  mark,  showing  that  a  thing  is  the  property 
of  a  god,  may  without  difficulty  be  simulated.  An 
offering  with  the  sign  of  taboo  upon  it  is  by  implication 
one  that  will  eventually  be  sacrificed  to  a  god.  Since, 
however,  the  time  when  the  sacrifice  is  to  be  made  is 
not  definite,  there  is  a  possibility  that  the  consecration 
will  not  occur  for  a  long  period.  Because  of  this  post¬ 
ponement  there  would  take  place  at  times  a  simulated 
consecration  of  offerings,  which  men  may  not  lawfully 
touch  because  they  are  tabooed,  but  which  never  will  be 
sacrificed  to  the  gods.2  In  Timor,  for  example,  it  is  related 
that  “a  few  palm  leaves  stuck  outside  a  garden  as  a  sign  of 
the  ‘pomli’  [taboo]  will  preserve  its  produce  from  thieves  as 
effectually  as  the  threatening  notice  of  man-traps,  spring- 
guns,  or  a  savage  dog  would  do.  for  us.”  3  Since  it  is  always 
the  medicine  man  or  the  ruler  as  medicine  man,  who 
makes  sacrificial  offerings,  it  will  be  seen  that  shamanism 
is  responsible  both  for  the  taboo  and  for  its  beneficial 
influences.4 

No  single  factor,  it  may  be  truthfully  said,  has  more 
potently  influenced  the  culture  and  shaped  the  destiny 
of  society  than  the  medicine  man.  In  attempting  to  gain 
a  true  conception  of  the  historical  importance  and  develop¬ 
ment  of  a  race,  the  one  element  which  above  all  others 


1  Thompson,  “The  Story  of  New  Zealand,”  I,  p.  130. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  p.  144. 

3  Wallace,  “The  Malay  Archipelago.”  p.  196. 

4  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  III,  pp.  145-146. 


20* 


292 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


demands  closest  attention  and  investigation  is  the  power 
of  the  priest  class.  That  the  medicine  man  has  frequently 
abused  his  opportunities  is  to  be  deplored.  But  in  con¬ 
sideration  of  the  social  control  which  he  has  exercised,  and 
in  consideration  of  the  fact  that  art,  education,  history,  and 
science  had  their  incipiency  in  the  class  to  which  he  and 
his  fellows  belong,  the  verdict  of  impartial  judgment 
must  be  that  on  the  whole,  whether  consciously  or  un¬ 
consciously,  the  shaman  has  rendered  a  social  service,  the 
beneficial  results  of  which  are  incalculable. 

Another  way  of  testing  the  relative  merits  of  the 
priest  class  is  by  the  standard  of  societal  selection.1  Every 
society  which  has  survived  has  had  medicine  men.  Social 
aggregations  without  priests  could  not  compete  with  others 
of  which  those  socializing  agencies  formed  a  part,  and 
consequently  gave  way  in  the  struggle  before  a  superior 
foe.2  Had  shamanism  been  a  social  disadvantage  rather 
than  a  social  advantage,  those  societies  in  which  it  had 
place  would  have  gone  down  in  the  contest  with  others 
where  it  did  not  exist,  and  the  weaker  aggregates 
together  with  their  institutions  would  have  perished.  But 
the  fact  that  it  gave  life  to  social  groups  proves  the  worth 
of  the  sacerdotal  class. 

It  is  thus  seen  that  strength  has  come  out  of  weakness ; 
good  out  of  evil;  truth  out  of  error.  These  words  epitomize 
the  story  of  the  progress  of  the  human  race.  Many  wrong 
theories  have  been  advocated,  and  many  methods  have 

1  Keller,  “Societal  Evolution/’  pp.  53—168. 

2  Spencer,  “Principles  of  Sociology,”  pp.  148 — 149. 


ch.  vm 


CONCLUSION 


293 


been  of  no  avail  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  were 
originally  contemplated.  In  conjunction  with  his  multitu¬ 
dinous  mistakes,  however,  man  of  necessity  has  also 
blundered  upon  truth.  The  false  has  perished,  while 
the  true  has  survived.  That  process  has  been  repeated 
time  without  end,  until  astronomy  has  eventuated  from 
astrology,  chemistry  from  alchemy,  medicine  from  magic, 
nobler  religious  ideals  and  social  betterment  from 
fetichism — in  other  words,  science,  spiritual  enlightenment, 
and  societal  advancement  from  superstition. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


In  the  foregoing  pages  a  painstaking  effort  has  been  made, 
by  the  footnotes,  to  give  full  credit  wherever  it  is  due. 
In  addition,  however,  special  mention  may  be  made  of 
a  list  of  general  works  from  which  has  been  gleaned 
much  of  the  data  that  constitute,  so  to  speak,  the  back¬ 
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Gumplowicz,  L.,  Der  Rassenkampf.  Innsbruck,  1909. 
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Me  Kay,  W.  J.  S.,  Ancient  Gynecology.  New  York,  1901. 
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Osborne,  Oliver  T.,  Introduction  to  Materia  Medica  and 
Pharmacology.  New  York,  1906. 

Osborne,  Oliver  T.,  Handbook  of  Therapy  (Editor). 
Chicago,  1912. 


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295 


Schelenz,  H.,  Geschichte  der  Pharmazie.  Berlin,  1904. 
Schmidt,  E.,  Ausfiihrliches  Lehrbuch  der  pharmaceu- 
tischen  Chemie.  Marburg,  1901. 

Solly,  E.,  Medical  Climatology.  Philadelphia  and  New 
York,  1897. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  Principles  of  Sociology.  Volumes  I 
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1897. 

German  Edition,  Leipzig,  1897. 

Sumner,  William  Graham,  Folkways.  Boston,  1907. 
Tschirch,  A.,  Handbuch  der  Pharmakognosie.  Leipzig, 
1909—1912. 

Tylor,  E.  B.,  Anthropology.  New  York,  1893. 

Tylor,  E.  B.,  Early  History  of  Mankind.  London,  1870. 
Tylor,  E.  B.,  Primitive  Culture.  London,  first  Edition, 
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Wetterstrand,  O.  Gv  Hypnotism  and  its  Application 
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296 


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The  following  list  contains  books  of  a  more  specialized 

character. 

Allen,  A.,  and  Thomson,  T.  H.  R.,  Narrative  of  the 
Expedition  to  the  River  Niger  in  1841.  London,  1848. 

Allen,  Henry  T.,  Atnatanas;  natives  of  Copper  River, 
Alaska.  (In  U.  S.  Smithsonian  Institution.  Annual 
Report,  1886,  pt.  1.  Washington,  1889,  pp.  258-266). 

Allison,  Mrs.  S.  S.,  Account  of  the  Similkameen  Indians 
of  British  Columbia.  (In  Journal  of  Anthropological 
Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  1891 — 1892, 
Vol.  21,  pp.  305—318). 

American  Medical  Association,  Handbook  of 
Useful  Drugs,  Chicago,  1913. 

American  Medical  and  Surgical  Journal. 
St.  Louis  and  Philadelphia. 

American  Journal  of  Pharmacy. 

American  Pharmaceutical  Association,  Pro¬ 
ceedings  of - Philadelphia. 

Annals  of  Good  Sainte  Anne  de  Beaupre. 
Quebec,  Canada. 

Anstie,  Francis  E.,  Lectures  on  diseases  of  the  nervous 
system.  (Lecture  VI,  Lancet,  Jan.  11,  1873,  Vol.  1, 
pp.  39 — 41). 

Aubrey,  William  H.  S.,  The  Natural  and  Domestic 
History  of  England.  London,  1870—1880. 

Australasian  Association  for  the  Advance¬ 
ment  of  Science.  Sidney,  1892. 

Apocrypha. 

As t ley,  T.,  New  General  Collections  of  Voyages  and 
Travels.  London,  1745 — 1747. 

Atkinson,  T.  W.,  Siberia,  Oriental  and  Western.  Lon¬ 
don,  1858. 

Atlantic  Monthly.  Boston. 

Baas,  Johann  H.,  Outline  of  the  History  of  Medicine. 
Translation  of  Henry  Handerson.  New  York,  1889. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


297 


Backhouse,  James,  A  Narrative  of  a  Visit  to  Australia. 
London,  1843. 

Bacon,  Francis,  Novum  Organum.  (In  Rand’s  Modern 
Classical  Philosophers,  pp.  24 — 56.  Boston  and 
New  York,  1908). 

Bancroft,  Hubert  H.,  The  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific 
States  of  North  America.  New  York,  1875 — 1876. 
Several  other  editions. 

Barton,  Collections  toward  a  Materia  Medica  in  the 
United  States.  (In  Lloyd  Library,  Bulletin  Number 

i). 

Bart  ram,  William,  Travels  through  North  and  South 
Carolina.  London,  1792. 

Bastian,  Adolf,  Der  Mensch  in  der  Geschichte.  Leip¬ 
zig,  1860. 

Berdoe,  Edward,  The  Origin  and  Growth  of  the 
Healing  Art.  London,  1893. 

Beverly,  R.,  Histoire  de  la  Virginie.  Paris,  1707. 
Biart,  Lucien,  The  Aztecs.  Translation,  Chicago,  1892. 

Bishop,  Isabella  Bird,  Among  the  Tibetans.  New 
York,  1894. 

Bishop,  Isabella  Bird,  Korea  and  Her  Neighbors.  New 
York,  Chicago,  and  Toronto,  1898. 

Black,  W.  G.,  Folk  Medicine:  A  Chapter  in  the  History 
of  Culture,  London,  1883. 

Boas,  Franz,  Central  Eskimo.  (In  United  States  Bureau 
of  Ethnology,  Sixth  and  Seventh  Annual  Reports, 
1884—1885;  1885—1886.  Washington,  1890—1891, 
pp.  399 — 675;  301 — 409).  Also  in  Popular  Science 
Monthly,  Vol.  57,  p.  631  ff. 

Bourke,  John  G.,  The  Medicine  Men  of  the  Apache. 
(In  United  States  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Ninth 
Annual  Report,  1887 — 1888.  Washington,  1892, 
pp.  443—617). 

Bourke,  John  G.,  Scatologic  Rites  of  All  Nations. 
Washington,  1891. 

Boyle,  Frederick,  Adventures  among  the  Dyaks  of 
Borneo.  London,  1865. 


298 


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Brand,  John,  Observations  on  Popular  Antiquities  of 
Great  Britian.  Revised  by  H.  E.  Elies.  London,  1901. 

Brasseur  de  Bourbourg,  Charles  E.,  Histoire  des 
Nations  Civilisees  du  Mexique  et  de  FAmerique- 
Centrale,  etc.  Paris,  1857 — 1859. 

Brett,  W.  H.,  Indian  Tribes  of  Guiana.  London,  1868. 

Brin  ton,  Daniel  G.,  The  Myths  of  the  New  World. 
New  York,  1868;  Third  Edition,  Philadelphia,  1896. 

B  r  i  n  t  o  n ,  Daniel  G.,  Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples.  New 
York,  1897. 

Brin  ton,  Daniel  G.,  Nagualism,  Philadelphia,  1894. 

British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Science.  London. 

British  Medical  Journal,  London. 

Brugsch-Bey,  Henry,  History  of  Egypt  under  the 
Pharaohs.  Edited  by  Philip  Smith.  London,  1881. 

B  run  ton,  T.  L.,  Action  of  Medicines.  New  York,  1899. 

Brunt  o  n ,  T.  L.,  Pharmacology  and  Therapeutics.  Lon¬ 
don,  1880. 

Buchanan,  James,  Sketches  of  the  History,  Manners 
and  Customs  of  North  American  Indians,  London, 
1824. 

Bureau  of  Ethnology.  Reports  and  Bulletins  of - 

Washington. 

Burton,  Richard  F.,  Mission  to  Gelele,  King  of  Dahomey. 
London,  1864. 

Burton,  Richard  F.,  The  City  of  the  Saints.  London, 
1861. 

Burton,  Robert,  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  London,  1806. 

Cabell o  de  Balboa,  Miguel,  Histoire  du  Perou.  (In 
Ternaux-Compans,  Henri,  Voyages. . .  Vol.  15.  Paris, 
1837—1841). 

Caldwell,  R.,  On  Demonolatry  in  Southern  India.  (In 
Anthropological  Society  of  Bombay,  Journal, 
Vol.  I,  1886,  pp.  91 — 105). 

California,  University  of,  Publications  in  American 
Archaeology  and  Ethnology,  Vol.  5. 


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Callaway,  Canon,  and  Bishop,  Religious  Systems  of 
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Campbell,  J.,  The  Wild  Tribes  of  Central  Africa.  (In 
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Candolle,  Adolphe,  De  POrigine  des  Plantes  Cultivees. 
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Catholic  World,  New  York. 

C  a  1 1  i  n  ,  George,  Letters  and  Notes  on  the  Manners  and 
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Cator,  Dorothy,  Every-day  Life  among  the  Head- 
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Christian,  F.  W.,  The  Caroline  Islanders.  London, 
1899. 

Clemens,  Samuel,  Christian  Science.  New  York,  1907. 

Cockayne,  T.  O.,  Saxon  Leechdoms,  Wort-Cunning, 
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Codrington,  R.  H.,  The  Melanesians.  Oxford,  1891. 

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Connolly,  R.  M.,  Social  Life  in  Fanti-Land.  (In  Anthix> 
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Cook,  James,  A  Voyage  to  the  Pacific  Ocean...  1776- 
1780.  London,  1784. 

Crantz,  D.,  Historic  von  Gronland  bis  1779.  Leipzig, 
1780.  Translation,  London,  1820. 

Curr,  E.  M.,  The  Australian  Race.  Melbourne,  1886-1887. 

Dalton,  Edward  T.,  Descriptive  Ethnology  of  Bengal. 
Calcutta,  1872. 

Dalton,  Henry  G.,  History  of  British  Guiana,  London, 
1855. 


300 


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Dawson,  James,  Australian  Aborigines  in  the  Western 
District  of  Victoria.  Melbourne,  1881. 

Dealy,  James  J.  and  L.  F.  Ward,  A  Text-book  of 
Sociology.  New  York,  1905. 

De  Groot,  J.  J.  M.,  The  Religious  System  of  China. 
Leide,  1892—1910. 

Dellenbaugh,  The  North  American  Indians  of  Yester¬ 
day.  New  York,  1901. 

Dennys,  N.  B.,  Folk-Lore  of  China,  London,  1876. 

Dietetic  and  Hygienic  Gazette.  New  York  and 
Philadelphia. 

Dixon,  The  Chimariko  Indians  and  Language.  (In 
University  of  California  Publications  in  American 
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Dixon,  Some  Aspects  of  American  Shamanism.  (Jour¬ 
nal  of  American  Folk  Lore,  January,  1908,  pp.  1-2  ff.). 

Do  brizh  offer,  Martin,  An  Account  of  the  Abipones, 
an  Equestrian  People  of  Paraguay.  Translation, 
London,  1822. 

Doolittle,  Justus,  Social  Life  of  the  Chinese.  New 
York,  1865.  Revised  by  Edwin  P.  Hood,  London, 
1868. 

Dorman,  R.  R.,  The  Origin  of  Primitive  Superstitions. 
Philadelphia  and  London,  1881. 

Dowd,  Jerome,  The  Negro  Races.  A  Sociological  Study. 
New  York,  1907. 

Dunglinson,  Richard  J.,  History  of  Medicine.  Phila¬ 
delphia,  1872. 

Dupuis,  C.  F.,  Origine  de  tous  les  Cultes.  Edition  used 
was  not  dated. 

Dyer,  Folk-Lore  of  Plants.  New  York,  1899. 

Ebers,  G.,  Egypt.  Edition  used  was  not  dated. 

Ed  kins,  Joseph,  Religion  in  China.  London,  1893. 

Ella,  S.,  Samoa.  (In  Australasian  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science.  Fourth  Meeting,  \  1892. 
Report,  Sydney,  1892,  pp.  620 — 645). 

Ellis,  A.  B.,  Tshi-Speaking  Peoples.  London,  1887. 

Ellis,  A.  B.,  Ewe-Speaking  Peoples  of  the  Slave  Coast 
of  West  Africa.  London,  1890. 


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301 


Ellis,  A.  B.,  Yoruba-Speaking  Peoples  ot  the  Slave  Coast 
of  West  Africa.  London,  1894. 

Ellis,  Havelock,  Man  and  Woman.  London,  1894. 

Ellis,  William,  Polynesian  Researches.  London,  1859. 

Ellis,  William,  History  of  Madagascar.  London,  1858. 

Ellis,  William,  Journal  of  a  Tour  around  Hawaii.  Boston, 
1825. 

Emerson,  Ellen  Russel,  Indian  Myths.  Boston,  1884. 

Encyclopedia  Britannic  a. 

English  Bible.  (Revised  version). 

Ephemeris.  Brooklyn. 

Erman,  Adolph,  Life  in  Ancient  Egypt.  Translated  by 
H.  M.  Tirard,  London,  1894. 

Ethnological  Society,  Transactions  of  —  — 
United  States.  London,  1869. 

Fairmount  Park  Art  Association,  Thirty-second 
Annual  Report. 

F  a  1  k  n  e  r ,  Thomas,  A  Description  of  Patagonia,  Hereford, 
1774. 

Fawcett,  Fred,  On  the  Saoras  (or  Savaras),  an  Ab¬ 
original  Hill  People  of  the  Eastern  Ghats  of  the 
Madras  Presidency.  (In  Anthropological  Society  ot 
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Fitzroy,  Robert,  Narrative  of  the  Expedition  and  Sur¬ 
veying  Voyage  of  the  Beagle.  London,  1839 — 1840. 

Fletcher,  The  Hake,  A  Pawnee  Ceremony.  (In  United 
States  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Washington,  1904, 
pp.  14  ff.). 

Fletcher-Laflesche,  The  Omaha  Tribe.  (In  United 
States  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Washington,  1911,  pp. 
580  ff.). 

Fliickiger,  F.  A.,  and  Handbury,  Daniel,  Pharma- 
cography.  London,  1879. 

Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  Royal  Commentaries  of  the 
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Garrison,  F.  H.,  History  of  Medicine.  Philadelphia, 
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Gill,  W.  W.,  Myths  and  Songs  from  the  South  Pacific, 
London,  1876. 

Gilmour,  J.,  Among  the  Mongols.  London,  1883. 

Grey,  George,  Journals  of  Two  Expeditions  of  Dis¬ 
covery  in  Australia,  London,  1841. 

Grimm,  Teutonic  Mythology.  Translation  of  Stallybrass, 
London,  1880 — 1883. 

Grote,  George,  History  of  Greece.  Fourth  Edition, 
London,  1846 — 1856. 

Guhl,  E.,  and  Koner,  W.,  Life  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans.  Translation  of  Hiifer,  New  York,  1875. 

Hakluyt,  R.,  Voyages,  London,  1850. 

Hale,  Horatio,  Northwestern  Tribes  of  Canada.  (In 
British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science. 
Fifty-ninth  Meeting,  Report,  1889,  London,  1890, 
pp.  797—925). 

Hallberg,  C.  S.  N.,  Some  Ancient  Pharmacists. 
Chicago,  1903. 

Harper’s  Weekly,  New  York. 

Hearne,  Samuel,  Voyage. . .  du  Fort  du  Prince  de Galles 
dans  la  Baie  de  Hudson  aFOcean  Nord.  Paris,  1799. 

Herod  otus,  Works.  Various  Editions. 

Herrera,  Antonio  de,  General  History  of  the  Continent 
and  Isles  of  America.  Translation  of  Stevens, 
London,  1725—1726. 

Hoffman,  W.  J.,  The  Midewiwin  or  “Grand  Medicine 
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Hoffman,  W.  J.,  The  Menomini  Indians.  (In  United 
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Homer,  Iliad. 

Homer,  Odyssey. 

Ho  witt,  A.  W.,  Native  Tribes  of  South  Eastern  Australia. 
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Ho  witt,  A.  W.,  On  Australian  Medicine  Men.  (In 
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303 


Hue,  Evariste  Regis,  Travels  in  Tartary,  Thibet,  and 
China.  Translation  of  Hazlitt,  London,  1844,  1845, 
1856. 

Huchinson,  George  Thompson,  (Editor),  The  Living 
Races  of  Mankind.  New  York,  1902. 

Hunter,  W.  W.,  The  Indian  Empire.  London,  1893. 

Index  Medicus,  Washington,  1879 — 1899;  1903 — 1921. 

International  Congress  oi  Anthropologists, 
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J  a  s  t  r  o  w ,  Joseph,  Fact  and  Fable  in  Psychology.  Boston 
and  New  York,  1900. 

Johns,  C.  A.,  Flowers  of  the  Field.  London,  1853. 

journal  of  American  Folk  Lore. 

Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association. 
Chicago. 

Journal  of  Anthropological  Institute  of 
Great  Britian  and  Ireland.  London. 

Journal  of  the  Anthropological  Society  of 
Bombay.  Bombay. 

Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal. 
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Keating,  William  H.,  Narrative  of  the  Expedition  to 
the  Source  of  St.  Peter's  River,  under  the  Command 
of  S.  H.  Long.  Philadelphia,  1824. 

Keller,  Albert  G.,  Homeric  Society.  New  York,  1902. 

Keller,  Albert  G.,  Societal  Evolution.  New  York,  1915. 

Kingsley,  M.  H.,  Travels  in  West  Africa.  New  York, 
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Kingsley,  M.  H.,  West  African  Studies.  New  York,  1899. 

Laflesche,  Who  was  the  Medicine  Man?  (In  Thirty- 
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Lathrop,  R.  G.,  Descriptive  Sociology.  1859. 

Laurie,  J.,  Aneityum,  New  Hebrides.  (In  Australasian 
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Le  Clerc,  Daniel,  Histoire  de  la  Medicine.  La  Haye, 
1729. 

Lee,  Frederick  George,  Glimpses  of  the  Supernatural. 
London,  1875. 

Lehmann,  A.,  Abergiaube  und  Zauberei.  Stuttgart,  1898. 
L  e  1  a  n  d ,  Charles  G.,  Gypsy  Sorcery  and  Fortune  Telling. 
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Lenormant,  F.,  Chaldean  Magic.  London,  1877. 
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Livingstone,  David,  Travels  in  South  Africa.  New 
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Lloyd,  John  U.,  Cephaelis  Ipecacuanha.  (In  Western 
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Lloyd,  John  U.,  History  of  Vegetable  Drugs.  (In 
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Lloyd,  John  U.,  Opium  and  its  Compounds.  (In  Drug 
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Lubbock,  John,  Origin  of  Civilization.  New  York,  1870. 

MacCauley,  Clay,  Seminole  Indians  of  Florida.  (In 
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MacDonald,  James,  East  Central  African  Customs. 
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Maeterlink,  Maurice,  The  Life  of  the  Bee.  Trans¬ 
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Mason,  Otis  T.,  Origins  of  Invention.  London,  1895. 

Maspero,  G.,  Dawn  of  Civilization  in  Egypt  and 
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— 1 1 


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States  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  Fourteenth  Annual 
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1896). 

Mooney,  James,  Medical  Mythology  of  Ireland.  (In 
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INDEX  OF  NAMES 


Note.  —  References  are  to  numbers  of  pages. 


A 

Abella,  87. 

Abipones,  49,  126. 

Abyssinians,  206. 

Acts,  Book  of,  216. 

Aesculapius,  75,  149. 

Afghanistan,  (204). 

Africa,  85,  97,  121,  (141),  146, 
182,  214,  228,  271,  273.  - 
Central,  45,  84,  87,  121.  — 
East,  10,  42,  59.  —  East 
Central,  139, 160.  —  Equatorial, 
272.  —  South,  25.  West,  109, 
118,  160,  188,  272.  —  West 
Coast  of,  273. 

Africans,  45,  59,  134,  208.  — 
West-,  117.  —  of  the  West 
Coast,  109. 

Agodice,  81. 

Agrippa,  Cornelius,  209. 

Ahab,  39. 

Akikuyu,  59,  69. 

Alaska,  97,  128,  192,  232. 

Albucasis  of  Cordova,  81. 

Aldegunde,  Helena,  76. 

Alexander,  227. 

Algonquins,  93,  117,  190. 

Amazulus,  8, 41, 134, 140, 171, 172. 

America,  13, 19,  25,  77,  111,  (141), 
228,  247,  256,  281.  —  Central, 
78,  182.  —  North  West,  95.  - 
Pacific  States  of  North,  211, 
244.  —  South,  111,  146, 266,271. 

Ammassalik,  146. 

Anaw’d  Lake,  113. 

Andamanese  Islanders,  92,  120, 
(241). 


Andes,  264,  265. 

Annamites,  94. 

Anne,  Ste.,  deBeaupre,  172—175. 
Apache,  81,  135,  153,  155,  184, 
191,  221. 

Apocrypha,  224. 

Apollo,  17,  37. 

Arabs,  182,  (246),  249,  261. 
Araucanians,  198,  219. 

Arawaks,  12. 

Ardra,  203. 

Argos,  75. 

Arizona,  45,  232,  259. 

Aryans,  16. 

Asclepiades,  185. 

Ashanti,  72,  152. 

Asia,  141,  229,  271.  —  Minor, 
261.  —  South-east,  44,  271.  - 
Western,  261. 

Assyria,  17,  283. 

Atnatanas,  97,  127. 

Aubrey,  19. 

Australia,  30,  52,  72,  95,  111, 
125,  (141),  143,  156,  271,  276. 
—  Central,  72,  77,  84,  116,  193. 
—  South,  41. 

Australians.  8,  11,  14,  15,  16,  38, 
52,  77,  133,  275.  —  Central,  121. 
Australian -Tasmanian  district, 
11. 

Avicenna,  82,  248. 

Aztecs,  181,  280. 

B 

Babylon,  17. 

Babylonians,  284. 

Badagas,  147,  208. 

Baksa,  40. 


r 


314 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Bari,  152. 

Bechuanas,  25,  94. 

Benedict,  St.,  223. 

Bilquila,  27,  241. 

Bishop  Colenso,  134. 

Bolivia,  264. 

Bontoc,  290. 

Borneo,  60,  61,  72,  92,  118,  179, 
204,  206.  —  British  North,  80, 
93.  —  Western,  94. 

Botany  Bay,  276. 

Boulia,  144. 

Boulian,  49. 

Brazil,  36, 45, 147,  234, 236,  239. 
Brazilians,  237. 

Britons,  18. 

Brodie,  220. 

Buddhist,  97. 

Byzantium,  284. 


Caesar,  227. 

Calabar,  30. 

Calenda,  Costanza,  87. 
California,  45, 78, 116, 140,  244.  — 
Central,  129.  —  Southern,  137, 
153,  158. 

Callaway,  8,  15. 

Canada,  27,  172. 

Caquingue,  138. 

Carib  Tribes,  87. 

Carriers,  148. 

Cayuse,  25. 

Celebes,  Central,  78. 

Celsus,  261. 

Celts,  16. 

Chaldea,  17,  129,  149,  197. 
Chaldeans,  285. 

Cherokees,  14,  57,  93,  111,  230, 
278,  279. 

Chibchas,  264. 

China,  73,  83,  84,  98,  129,  141, 
178,  243,  262. 

Chinese,  149,  212,  246,  262. 
Chinooks,  134. 

Chins,  Northern,  178. 
Chippeways,  32,  78,  188,  190. 
Circe,  75. 

Colbert,  238. 

Colenso,  Vide  Bishop. 


Columbia,  British,  274. 

Commis,  45. 

Congo,  107. 

Cossacks,  259. 

Cybele,  33. 

Cyclops,  213,  214. 

D 

Dahomey,  96,  127,  180. 

Dakotas,  12,  52,  72,  78,  93,  119, 
134,  148,  164,  234. 

Delphi,  37,  46. 

Devonshire,  207. 

Dieyerie,  41,  111. 

Dioscorides,  261. 

Dutch,  237. 

Dyaks,  11,  26,  61,  88,  92,  93,  118, 
153, 161,  179,  204,  206.  —  Land, 
12,  42,  60,  77,  97,  110,  162, 
211.  —  Sea,  33,  115,  133. 

E 

Ecclesiasticus,  172. 

Ecuador,  233,  250,  251. 

Eddy,  Mary  Baker,  217,  219,  220. 

Egypt,  12,  45,  75,  80,  129,  148, 
206,  225,  242,  261,  283,  287. 

Egyptians,  81,  94,  195,  203,  209, 
215,  240,  243,  261. 

Elisha,  39. 

Elizabeth  of  Kent,  76. 

England,  76,  150,  201,  204,  207, 
231,  256,  273.  —  English,  19, 
268. 

Erxleben,  Frau,  76. 

Eskimos,  2,  52,  53,  72,  73,  77, 
93,  109,  110,  114,  119,  139, 
146,  161. 

Europe,  229,  247,  252,  255,  262, 
266,  267,  278.  —  Europeans, 
272. 

Ewe-Speaking  Peoples,  6,  96. 

Exodus,  17,  212. 

F 

Fanti-Land,  124. 

Favilla,  76. 

Fiacre,  St.,  223. 

Fijians,  13. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


315 


Fiji  Islands,  43. 

Finns,  7. 

Florida,  45. 

Foxes,  117. 

France,  238,  252,  253,  255. 
French,  243,  257,  276. 

Fuegians,  125. 

Fumaria  Capreolata,  206. 

G 

Gaelic,  247. 

Galen,  75. 

Ganguella  Negroes,  138. 
Germany,  76,  238,  256. 

Germans,  126. 

Gilbert  Island,  198. 

Gold  Coast,  28,  30,  99,  164. 
Goras,  187. 

(jrappp  "j  4Q 

Greeks’  17,  37,  75,  180,  200,  213, 
214,  243,  247,  248,  260,  263,  284. 
Greenlanders,  50. 

Guanas,  26. 

Guarna,  Rebecca,  87. 

Guiana,  44,  145,  160. 


Hamites,  284. 

Hawaiian  Islands,  145. 
Head-hunters,  106,  112. 

Hebrews,  149,  216,  244,  261.  Vide 
Israelites,  Jews. 

Helen,  260. 

Helvetius,  237,  238. 

Hera,  75. 

Heraclides  of  Tarentum,  262. 
Herodotus,  17,  243. 

Herophilus,  81. 

Hildegard,  Abbatissa,  246. 
Hindus,  223,  233,  248,  284. 
Hippocrates,  185,  243,  261,  284. 
Holland,  238. 

Humphrey’s  Island,  134. 

Huns,  142. 

Hygeia,  75. 

I 

Igorot,  290. 

Iliad,  17. 

Incas,  134,  135,  182,  264,  265. 


Inca-Peruvians,  181. 

India,  17, 149, 243,  261.  —  Dutch, 
256.  —  English,  256.  —  North¬ 
western,  187.  —  Southern,  47, 
135,  147,  159. 

Indians,  71,  72,  180,  190,  198, 
211,  233,  250,  251,  265,  266.— 
American,  148;  North,  2,  24, 
49,  53,  59,  70,  95,  97, 104,  106, 
(108),  (125),  (132),  142,  148, 
(213),  225,  233,  242;  South, 
235.  —  Black  Feet,  101.  — 
Bolivian,  134.  —  of  California, 
140, 191, 198;  North, 87;  South, 
84, 115, 137, 159.  —  Chimariko, 
26,  42.  —  Columbian,  189.  — 
Creek,  45,  72,  97,  242.  —  of 
Cumana,  190.  —  Florida,  190, 
229.  —  Heidah,  233.  —  Hualpai, 
259.  —  Karaya,  36.  —  Kickapoo, 
163.  —  Klamath,  94.  —  Loango, 
92.  —  of  the  Matto-Grosso, 
250.  —  Menomini,  57,  142.  — 
of  Oregon,  154.  —  Pima,  26, 
33,  41,  56,  70,  142,  146,  151, 
162.  —  Sahaptain,  123.  — 

Seminole,  242.  —  Shingu,  57, 
191.  —  Similkameen,  112,  274. 
—  Twana,  232.  —  Ventura, 
162.  —  Wascow,  78,  124.  — 
Western,  38.  —Winnebago,  241. 

Iniots,  Western,  28. 

Iroquois,  277. 

Islam,  284. 

Israel,  39. 

Israelites,  203.  Vide  Hebrews, 
Jews. 

Italy,  252. 

J 

Japanese,  45. 

Javeh,  17,  212. 

Jehu,  39. 

Jesus,  216. 

Jews,  17,  38,  103,  182,  200,  284. 
Vide  Hebrews,  Israelites. 

K 

Kaffirs,  27,  176. 

Kalingas,  45. 


316 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Karayas,  233. 

Karens,  13,  176. 

Karok,  79,  80,  162. 

Kelta,  137. 

Kepler,  286. 

Kernai,  16,  191. 

Kirghiz,  163,  214. 

Kolmyck,  88. 

Konpooee,  179. 

Koran,  203,  210. 

Korea,  33,  73,  79,  82,  88,  164. 
Korean,  104. 

Koskis,  178. 

Kwahadks,  151. 

L 

Lancashire,  207. 

Leibniz,  238. 

Lemnig-Lennape,  143. 

Lhassa,  28. 

Liberia,  33,  112,  133,  241. 
Linnaeus,  239,  252. 

Livingstone,  272. 

Loango,  72,  135,  164. 

Logone,  246, 

Louis  XIV,  238. 

Lubuku,  72. 

Lucina,  75. 

Luzon,  45. 

M 

Madagascar,  133. 

Madras,  73,  145,  161,  181. 
Makjarawaint,  30. 

Malagasy,  200. 

Malanau,  46. 

Malay  Archipelago,  111;  M. 

Tribes,  271. 

Mangia,  133. 

Manila,  29. 

Maltraversa,  Adelmota,  87. 
Marcellus,  215. 

Marguerite  of  Naples,  87. 
Marquesan  Islands,  15. 
Martineau,  Harriet,  220. 
Mascotin,  163. 

Matira,  12. 

Mayas,  54. 

Medea,  75. 


Menelaus,  260. 

Mexico,  45,  92,  129,  277. 
Mexicans,  81,  115,  128,  134,  180. 
Miami,  163. 

Midewiwin,  67,  69,  72. 
Mincopies,  42,  241. 

Minnesota,  53. 

Mishmis,  188. 

Mi-Wok,  116,  153,  158. 
Mohammedans  (Moslems),  81,  82, 
182,  (210),  258,  261. 

Mohave,  153. 

Moluccas,  13. 

Morpheus,  263. 

Moses,  80,  287. 

N 

Nagualism,  26. 

Navahoes,  25,  56, 57, 163, 194,232. 
Negritos  of  Zambales,  Philippine 
Islands,  11,  26,  74,  153,  209. 
Neilgherries,  208. 

New  Caledonians,  175. 

New  England,  207. 

New  Hebrides,  26,  73,  115,  141, 
158. 

New  South  Wales,  185,  257. 
Newton,  227. 

New  Zealand,  12, 128, 134,  290. 
New  Zealanders,  189. 

Nez  Perces,  25. 

Nias,  33,  163. 

Nigeria,  British,  181. 

Nootka  Sound  People,  179. 

O 

Oceania,  129. 

Ocyroe,  75. 

Odysseus,  180,  213. 

Ojibways,  49,  52,  53,  54,  58,  67, 
69,  72,  93,  138,  160,  190. 
Omahas,  8,  14,  25,  109,  163,  184, 
194,  200. 

Oneeheow,  39. 

Oregon,  94,  244. 

Origen,  32. 

Ostyacks,  287. 

Owhyhee,  39. 


INDEX  OF  NAMES 


317 


F 

Pacific  Ocean,  233,  271. 
Papuans,  123. 

Papyrus  Ebers,  243. 

Paracelsus,  249. 

Paraguay,  26. 

Pascal,  216, 

Patagonia,  44,  88,  146,  152. 
Patagonians,  11,  36. 

Pawnees,  54. 

Persia,  246,  261,  262. 

Persians,  95,  154,  241. 

Peru,  15,  135,  180,  228,  250,  251, 
252,  264,  265,  280. 

Peruvians,  26,  128,  160,  203,  251, 
264. 

Philippine  Islands,  11,  16,26,29, 
45,  74,  153,  189,  190,  209,  290. 
Piso,  236,  237. 

Pocahontas,  211. 

Polo,  Marco,  246. 

Polynesia,  182. 

Polynesians,  77,  135. 

Porsena,  248. 

Powhatan,  93,  211. 

Priessnitz,  201. 

Pythagoras,  18. 

Pythagoreans,  206. 

Q 

Queensland,  106,  142,  167.  — 
Central,  115.  —  North,  144.  — 
Northwest,  117 
Quichua,  39. 

R 

Richelieu,  223. 

Rome,  223. 

Romans,  18,  75,  223,  243,  248, 
261,  284. 

Rongo,  133. 

Russian,  198. 

S 

Sacs  (and  Foxes),  117. 

Saga,  Heims-Kringla,  134,  — 
Icelandic,  212. 

Salpe,  76. 


Samoan,  8,  14,  36. 

Samoans,  10,  147. 

Samoyeds,  45. 

Samuel,  Hebrew  Prophet,  141, 
212. 

Sanscrit,  94. 

Saoras,  26,  73,  145,  161. 
Sarawak,  80,  93,  159. 
Scandinavia,  134. 

Schurz,  Carl,  1. 

Semites,  210. 

Shuli,  143. 

Siberia,  25,  45,  72,  88,  118. 
Singpho,  44. 

Sioux,  125,  190. 

Somaliland,  272. 

Sotira,  76. 

Spain,  237.  —  Spaniards,  54,  251. 
Spanish,  244,  250,  266,  277. 
Stanley,  272. 

Styx,  200. 

Sumatra,  10,  38,  189,  206. 

T 

Tagalog,  30,  190. 

Tahitians,  147,  178. 

Tannese,  15. 

Tapantunnuasu,  78. 

Tartars,  18,  259. 

Tartary,  177. 

Tasmania,  41. 

Tasmanians,  8,  11,  126. 

Tauna,  133. 

Telemachus,  260. 

Theophrastus,  261. 

Thlinkeets,  119. 

Tibet,  97,  106,  161. 

Tibetans,  28. 

Timor,  291. 

Tissheim,  Catherine,  76. 

Togans,  10. 

Togbos,  241. 

Trallianus,  Alexander,  209,  215, 
217. 

Troppau,  Duchess  of,  76. 
Tshi-Speaking  Peoples,  6,  36, 46, 
62,  66,  82,  99,  104,  105,  116, 
121,  152,  153,  155,  164. 
Tungus,  30,  36. 

Tupis,  147. 


318  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Turkestan,  244. 

Turkish,  262. 

Tycho  Brahe,  286. 

U 

Uganda,  260.  —  Tribes,  2. 

Ute,  1. 

V 

Veddah,  176. 

Victoria,  27,  34,  92,  114,  115, 
123,  127.  —  British,  163. 
Visayans,  16,  189. 

W 

Waiapai,  45. 

Walla  Wallas,  25. 


Wascows,  25. 

Watgo,  30. 

West  Indies,  12,  243. 

Wolly,  Anna,  76. 

¥ 

Yakuts,  2,  30,  34,  35,  88,  97,  108, 
124,  147,  160,  176,  197,  247. 
Yorkshire,  254. 

Yucatan,  54. 

Z 

Zanzibar,  45. 

Zeno,  187. 

Zululand,  49,  72,  151. 

Zulus,  2,  6,  8,  25. 

Zunis,  54. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Note.  —  References,  unless  otherwise  indicated,  are  to  numbers  of  pages. 


A 

Abdomen,  190. 

Abnormity,  (35,  36,  48),  69. 
Aconite,  271. 

Agency,  4,  5,  14, 17,  18, 19,  20,  21, 
(36),  120, 145, 167, 178, 188,  (199). 
Agnosticism,  4. 

Air,  5,  6,  18,  20,  38,  126,  265. 
Alchemy,  285,  293. 

Alcohol,  285. 

Ammonia,  285. 

Amulet,  23,  202—206,  208,  209, 
214,  216,  221,  226,  246. 
Anaesthetic,  270. 

Analogy,  20,  (23),  203. 

Anatomy,  284. 

Ancestor,  5, 8, 20, 27, 28, 32, 41,  42, 
(73),  (84),  94, 145, 172,  (175),  213. 
Anemia,  71,  186,  248,  249,  257. 
Anthropogeography,  69. 
Anthropology,  228. 

Antiseptic,  247. 

Apoplexy,  186,  224. 

Asthma,  277. 

Astringent,  230,  237,  249,  275. 
Astrology,  128,  129,  285,  286,  293. 
Astronomy,  129, 149, 285, 286, 293. 
Ataxia,  173. 

Awe,  31,  35,  84,  86,  89,  103,  114, 
(115),  (119),  130,  153,  165. 

B 

Bacteriology,  230. 

Bad  Luck,  Vide  Luck. 

Baptism,  201. 

Bladder,  223. 

Blessing,  165. 


Blood,  15,  44,  47,  57,  62,  80,  85, 
92,  110,  178,  180,  181,  182,  185, 
186, 191, 192,  215,  249,  257,  272. 
Blood-letting,  183,  184,  185,  186, 
187, 194,  224,  229, 233,  235,  257. 
Brains,  60. 

Bronchitis,  276,  277. 

Bruises,  195. 

C 

Calabar  bean,  272,  273. 
Camphor,  246,  262. 

Cancer,  223. 

Cardiac  agent,  272. 

Cascara  sagrada,  244,  245. 
Castor  oil  (ricinum),  242,  243. 
Castration,  32. 

Cathartic,  Vide  Purgative. 
Causation,  law  of,  4;  natural,  35. 
Cause,  5,  7,  8,  11,  12,  16,  17,  18, 
(22),  167,  284;  natural,  199,  284. 
Cauterization,  198,  226,  229. 
Ceremony,  56,  57,  58,  59,  60,  (61), 
(62),  (63),  (64),  (65),  67,  68,  69, 

79,  93,  99,  110,  124,  133,  142, 
163,  167,  (181),  182,  200,  221, 
232,  242,  264,  271,  273. 

Chant,  (62),  (63),  (64),  (67),  68, 

80,  (92),  93, 101,  110,  113,  (143), 
(144),  (147),  (162),  (194),  221. 

Charity,  286. 

Charlatan(ism),  51, 105—114, 130, 
218. 

Charms,  12,  17,  23,  31,  60,  93, 
101,  117,  139,  143,  146,  156, 
179,  202,  203,  204,  205,  207, 
208,  209, 215,  216,  221,  226,  248. 


320 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


Chemistry,  285,  293. 

Chief,  1,  25,  133,  134,  166,  271. 
Christ,  13,  32,  (216). 
Christendom,  (27),  (32),  183,  208, 
223. 

Christian,  50;  Protestant,  50; 
Catholic,  50. 

Christian  science,  217,  219,  226. 
Church,  19,  32,  103,  183,  201,  266, 
286;  Roman  and  Greek  Catho¬ 
lic,  94,  201;  American,  95. 
Circumcision,  182. 

Clairvoyance,  25,  71,  137,  138. 
Clyster,  241. 

Coca,  264—270,  281. 

Cocaine,  267 — 270. 

Colic,  188. 

Confession,  18. 

Conjuration,  18,  83,  (114),  152, 
221,  224. 

Conjuror,  14,  24,  119,  145.  Vide 
Medicine  Man. 

Consecration,  291. 

Constipation,  241. 

Consumption,  148,  275;  pulmo¬ 
nary,  255;  tubercular,  186. 
Cosmetics,  87. 

Counsellor,  (125),  133,  135,  286. 
Criticism,  35,  111,  280,  285. 
Crops,  11,  18,  120,  139,  142,  (159). 
Croup,  277. 

Culture,  (59),  (69),  99,  111,  132, 
136,  148,  167,  260,  291. 
Cupping,  192,  225,  (229). 

Curse,  38,  39,  60,  (214). 

Customs,  2,  60,  73,  75,  82,  161, 
171,  172,  193,  265. 

D 

Daimon,  passim. 

Daimon  possession,  11, 181.  Vide 
Spirit  possession. 

Daimonistic  possession  theory,  6, 
8,  10,  19,  167,  (250). 

Dance,  44,  (46),  47,  64,  65,  83,  92, 
100,  101,  113,  144,  232. 

Datura  stramonium,  45. 

Death,  3,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  13,  14,  15, 
16, 18,  19,  20,  21,  24,  38,  74,  78, 
85,  86,  116,  117,  120,  121,  (123), 


124,  152,  (153),  154,  (162),  165, 
167,  188,  273,  274. 

Deification,  74,  (171),  177,  (180), 
(213).  h 

Delirium,  45. 

Demonology,  25. 

Devil,  (13),  19,  41,  80,  117,  190, 
212,  249. 

Diagnosis,  79,  80,  168,  169,  193, 
(213),  285. 

Diarrhoea,  148,  276. 

Diet,  49,  130. 

Disease,  passim.  Vide  Illness, 
Sickness. 

Disgustingness,  230,  231. 

Divination,  25,  31,  112,  138,  139. 

Diviner,  25,  132,  138,  139.* 

Divinity,  14,  39,  44,  70,  96,  135, 
136,  151,  223.  Vide  Gods. 

Doctor  (ship),  26,  29,  52,  77,  78, 
106, 134, 140, 145, 146,  147,  148, 
150,  153,  154,  159,  220,  279; 
barking-d.,  79,  80;  root-d.,  79, 
80;  spirit-d.,  33;  spit-d.,  29, 
witch-d.,  31,  101,  109,  152, 188. 

Dream,  5,  6,  8,  9,  20,  29,  41,  42, 
44,  49,  50,  55,  84,  137,  143, 
interpretation  of,  41,  134. 

Dreamer,  109. 

Dress,  33,  90,  (124),  130. 

Dropsy,  185,  278.  Vide  Gout 
Rheumatism. 

Drought,  24,  99,  140,  141,  143, 
145,  152. 

Drugs,  45,  71,  75,  76,  87,  149,  204, 
227  ff  chap  VII,  281. 

Dualism,  195,  213,  217,  226. 

Dyspepsia,  233,  277. 


E 

Ear  boring,  182,  (183). 

Eclipses,  99,  129. 

Ecstasism,  25. 

Ecstasy,  44,  (45),  (47),  (48),  49, 
(50),  109,  135,  213,  281. 
Education,  31,  286,  292. 
Educator,  132. 

Emetic,  230—239,  242.  Vide 
Vomiting. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS 


321 


Environment,  32,  228,  280,  283; 
imaginary,  2,  3,  4,  7,  9,  20,  21, 
22,  69,  120,  139,  169,  283,  288; 
natural,  2,  20;  social,  2. 
Epilepsy,  9,  10,  18,  (31),  (36),  70, 
207,  209. 

Erysipelas,  209. 

Ethnography,  6,  231. 

Eucalyptus,  276. 

Evil  eye,  17,  21, 124,  205,  210,  211. 
Evolution,  184. 

Exorcism,  17,  18,  23,  68,  79,  89, 
92,  99,  102,  134,  141,  (146),  149, 
(150),  159,  168,  169,  176,  177, 
181, 187, 189, 190, 192,  193,  195, 
198,  203,  204,  206,  213,  216,  217, 
219,  221,  (222),  (223),  224,  225, 
229,  246,  (251),  257,  274,  (283). 
Exorcist,  73. 

Experiment(ation),  48,  282,  285. 
Eye-trouble,  183,  (215),  273. 

F 

Fainting-fit,  8,  13.  Vide  Swoon. 
Faith,  4,  101,  108,  112,  161,  221, 

222,  225. 

Faith  healing,  226. 

Falling  sickness,  9,  36. 

Fasting,  18,  (28),  44,  48,  49,  (50), 
55,  71,  (84),  109,  132,  182,  258. 
Fat,  (caul-  f.)16, 115, 169 ;  kidney-f., 
123. 

Fetich(ism),  35, 101, 125, 127,  202, 
205,  214,  216,  267 ;  f.-man,  97 ; 
f. -water,  45;  f. -priest,  124. 
Fever,  11,  15,  106,  187,  206,  208, 

223,  228,  249,  251,  254,  257,  276, 
281 

Fire,  *62,  66,  189,  196—198,  225, 
229  247. 

Flagellation,  44,  46,  (47),  (49),  50. 
Food,  2,  20,  115,  123,  275,  288. 
Forecast  of  the  weather,  136,  137. 
Formula,  57,  93,  149,  188,  206, 
215,  217;  exorcising  f.,  27. 
Fumigation,  23,  189,  (191),  (206), 

224,  (225),  230. 

G 

Germ  theory,  (198),  285. 
Germicide,  198. 


Ghost,  passim.  Vide  Spirit. 

Ghost  possession,  150. 

Ghost  theory,  13,  14,  16,  19,  21, 
109,  192,  (222),  231,  280,  285. 
Vide  Daimon  theory. 

God,  7,  13,  18,  99,  212,  216,  258, 
266. 

Gods  (deities),  7,  18,  27,  28,  30, 
34,  36,  39,  40,  41,  42,  44,  46, 
48,  58,  63,  64,  65,  66,  70,  74, 
79,  82,  83,  84,  94,  (99),  100, 
105,  108,  114,  120,  122,  130, 
132,  135,  137,  138,  149,  150, 
155,  158,  164,  169,  170,  171, 
(175),  176,  177,  (179),  180,  182, 
195,  199,  206,  212,  223,  (224), 
232,  233,  259,  265,  284,  287, 
288,  291. 

Goddess,  17,  75,  223. 

Gout,  217. 

Gullibility,  51,  54,  111,  115, 135. 

Gynecology,  80,  81,  82,  89,  (231), 
260. 

Gyration,  46,  47,  71. 

H 

Hallucination,  45,  46,  55. 

Head,  8. 

Headache,  275,  276. 

Healer,  51,  74,  76,  77,  100,  107, 
112, 145, 148, 152, 153,  165,  166, 
176,  220. 

Healing,  74,  75,  77,  84,  87,  111, 
130, 147, 150, 165,  216,  218,  222, 
230,  248,  259,  275. 

Heart,  7,  34,  61,  180,  224. 

Heathen,  50,  183,  208,  266. 

Heaven,  27,  33,  50,  69,  70,  98,  99, 
114  212. 

Hell,  13,  94,  114,  117,  (247). 

Hemorrhoids,  223. 

Herbs,  75,  92,  95,  104,  146,  148, 
198,  202,  204,  226,  227,  230,  231, 
232,  258,  274,  281. 

Heredity,  25,  (26),  (27),  (70),  (73). 

History,  129,  227—282,  292. 

Hospital,  284. 

Hydrotherapy,  201,  202,  226,  229. 

Hygiene,  284. 

Hyperpyrexia,  202. 


22 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


322 


Hypnotism,  43,  (44),  (48),  (51). 

Hysteria,  40,  (41),  70,  (73),  258. 

I 

Illness,  passim.  Vide  Disease, 

Si  pirn  pc: <3 

Ills  of  life’  4,  7,  20,  138,  226. 

Imagination,  188. 

Imposture,  61, 66, 105,  (107),  (108), 
110,  (125),  130. 

Impostor,  153. 

Impunity,  96,  122,  (150). 

Incantation,  17,  18,  23,  60,  86, 
93,  101,  146,  189,  198,  221,  224. 

Indifference,  4. 

Indigestion,  195. 

Inflammation,  186,  197,  215. 

Insanity,  10,  38,  39,  (43),  70,  174, 
258. 

Inspiration,  38,  39,  41,  44,  258. 

Intestines,  223. 

Ipecacuanha,  234 — 240,  268,  280. 

Iron,  247-249,  253. 

J 

Judge,  145. 

Jugglery,  (49),  50,  (51),  (52),  (53), 
(54),  (55),  (68),  (70),  (104),  140, 
142,  147. 

& 

King,  25,  132,  133,  134,  165,  166, 
176,  180,  182;  priest-king,  135. 

Kneading,  191,  194,  225.  Vide 
Massage. 

Knots,  207,  208. 

L 

Leader  (religious),  1,  34,  51,  55, 
286. 

Leprosy,  148,  206. 

Liver,  7,  8,  11,  224,  284. 

Luck,  140,  285 ;  bad  luck,  3,  4, 
6,  7,  11,  17,  21,  120,  138,  139, 
176,  178,  210 ;  good  luck,  116, 
139,  160;  luck  element,  4,  (21), 
(169). 

Lunatic,  10,  38. 


M 

Madness,  10,  38,  40. 

Magic(al),  13,  17,  (29),  34,  42,  52, 
54,  95,  99,  102,  106,  112,  134, 
135,  142,  148,  151,  159,  169, 

225,  273,  281,  285,  287;  m, 

doctors,  146 ;  black  in.  205  ; 
white  m.  205. 

Magician,  14,  15,  16,  24,  36,  86, 
134,  138,  146,  206,  215. 
Magnetism,  107. 

Malaria,  223,  249. 

Massage,  193,  194,  195,  225.  Vide 
Kneading. 

Materia  medica,  75,  227—229, 

235,  247,  249,  255,  274,  280, 

281,  282. 

Matriarchy,  74,  87. 

Measles,  148. 

Medical,  authorities,  256;  diplo¬ 
mas,  150,  education,  81,  284; 
legislation,  284;  profession,  89, 
184;  science,  179;  treatment, 
158,  174. 

Medication,  225. 

Medicine,  15,  25,  74,  75,  (76), 
87,  92,  102,  106,  112,  128,  148, 
149,  150,  172,  179,  (183),  202, 
214,  220,  225,  227  ff.  chap.VII, 
283,  285,  287 ;  practical  m.  284. 

Medicinal,  agent,  205;  properties, 
104,  250,  279,  281;  purpose. 
275;  value  204. 

Medicine  bag,  95,  139. 

Medicine  man,  passim,  24;  re¬ 
gular  m.  m.,  42;  irregular,  42. 
Adventitious  aids,  91 — 105. 
Appearance,  74  (w.*),  83  (w.*), 
88,  91,  96,  (99),  101,  102. 
Call,  27. 

Character,  1,  2,21,  34,  84  (w.*). 
Conduct,  28. 

Consecration,  89  (w.*). 
Detective  function  (31),  89, 
(98),  (121),  123,  130.  Vide 
Witch  detective. 

Diet,  (57),  91,  92.  Vide  Diet. 
Dress,  33,  (63),  (64),  (85),  88. 
91,  95,  96,  97,  98,  99, 


*  (w.)  =  Medicine  woman. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS 


323 


Medicine  man,  (continued) 

Dress,  (100),  101, 102,(103),  108.  I 

Dwelling,  91,  94,  95, 130,  (150). 

Estimation,  130,  165.  Vide 
Reputation. 

Evolution,  21. 

Failure,  140,  151—158,  (160), 
(162),  165. 

Fees,  57,  58,  59,  60,  (61),  (68), 
(70),  (78),  (79),  (116),  124, 
125,  127,  154,  157,  158-164. 

Functions,  1.  2,  61,  77  (w.*), 

83  (w.*),  89  (w.*),  132-151, 
165. 

Influence,  37,  74  (w.*),  91,  94, 
114.119,122,125,130,273,291. 

Initiation,  55,  58,  (59),  60,  (61), 

62,  (63),  (64),  (65),  (66),  67, 
(68),  (69),  84. 

Instruction,  56,  129. 

Intellect,  71. 

Intelligence,  66,  205. 

Language,  28,  75,  91,  92,  93, 

94,  130,  215. 

Making  of,  22-71,  83  (w.*), 

89  (w.). 

Manner,  28. 

Methods,  1,  2,  12,  14,  23,  29, 
(43),  (44),  (45),  (46),  (47),  (48), 
(49),  (50),  (52),  (53),  (54),  71, 

79  (w.*),  85  (w.*),  86  (w.*), 
101,  103,  109,  112,  132, 
(147),  (162),  167-226. 

Name  (24),  92. 

Novitiate,  55,  (56),  (57),  (58),  62. 

Organization,  (24),  (103),  (104), 
(130),  155. 

Peculiarities,  55,  70,  91,  (130). 

Peril,  (140),  (151). 

Precaution,  (155),  (156),  (157),  ! 
(165). 

Reputation  (respect,  reverence) 
(36),  37, 55, 70,  (89),  (96),  114, 
115,118,119, 122,123,  (125), 
126, 130, 136, 140, 150,  153, 
191. 

Rewards,  158-164. 

Social  influence,  21,  128,  131, 
287-292 ;  positionfstanding, 
status), (33),  55,  (61),77(w.*), 


Medicine  man,  (continued) 

78  (w.*)»  82  (w.*),  83  (w.*), 
87  (w.*),  89,  89  (w.*),  90, 103, 
114—133  (150),  154,  226. 
Solitude,  49,  (50),  55,  132. 
Success,  (140),  (151),  157. 
Superiority,  (114),  130. 
Medicine  woman,  (26),  (36),  46, 
(63),  70,  72-90. 

Melaleuca  Leucadendron,  275. 
Melancholy,  27,  36,  124,  206. 
Meningitis,  175. 

Mercury,  227,  228. 

Mesmerism,  220,  226. 
Meteorology,  136. 

Miracle,  50,  116. 

Misfortune,  4,  6,  8,  16,  19,  21, 
22,23, 116, 138, 146, 177, 178, 181. 
Mistletoe,  150. 

Morphine,  263  f. 

Mystery,  30,  52,  60,  70,  74,  110, 
112,  214. 

N 

Nail  (-paring),  15. 

Name,  11,  15,  16,  58,  92,  154, 
160,  211—214,  216,  217. 
Narcosis,  260. 

Narcotics,  45,  (57),  257 — 260. 
Nausea,  44,  231,  233,  242. 
Necromancy,  25. 

Necromancer,  212. 

Nerve,  9,  (40),  71,  (217),  219 ; 
N. -stimulant,  247,  258. 
Nervous  disorders,  109,136,273. 
Neurology,  40,  (222). 
Nymphomania,  48. 

O 

Offerings,  177,  178. 

Opium,  227,  239,  253,  258—263, 
268,  281. 

Oracle,  37,  42,  (43),  (65),  83,  85, 
107,  (114),  139,  (164). 

Ordeal,  66,  67,  232,  272—274. 
Osteopathy,  194. 

P 

Palsy,  113. 

Parasites,  20.  —  of  Human  So¬ 
ciety,  126,  127,  128,  130. 
Paternoster,  13,  19. 


(w.)  —  Medicine  woman. 


22* 


324  THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


R 


Pathology,  48,  226,  284. 

Peruvian  bark,  227,  228,  249-257. 

Pharmocopoeia,  228,  240,  244, 
245,  249,  271,  277,  278,  279, 
280,  282. 

Philosopher’s  stone,  285. 

Physician,  passim,  non  -  sacer¬ 
dotal  ph.,  118. 

Physiological,  effect,  202,  205, 
232, 235,  268,  purpose,  233, 281. 

Pneumonia,  186,  224,  290. 

Poison,  75,  80,  86,  116,  122,  150, 
191,  209,  233,  237,  271,  272, 
274  275. 

Poppy,  227,  260,  280. 

Possession,  9, 10,  36.  Vide  Spirit. 

Prayer,  13,  18,  (28),  (49),  55,  92, 
93,  112,  144,  172,  173,  (175), 
177,  214,  221,  224,  226;  p.  cures, 

Yl 3 _ J75  226. 

Priest,  18,  25,  28,  30,  32,  33,  36, 
37,  43,  45,  50,  51,  54,  57,  62, 
63,  65,  66,  67,  68,  73,  77,  83, 
92,  93,  97,  98,  99,  100,  102, 
103,  104,  115,  121,  125,  126, 
128,  129,  130,  131,  132,  133, 
134,  141,  144,  145,  146,  147, 
148,  150,  152,  155,  161,  164, 
165,  180,  188,  198,  214,  222, 
242,  264,  286,  287,  288,  292. 

Priestess,  37,  62,  66,  67,  73,  77, 
80,  82,  83,  84,  97,  99,  100, 149. 

Priest  doctor,  213;  —  Priest 
physician,  75,  80,  94,  240. 

Prophecy,  25,  (49),  62,  84,  138, 
(155),  165,  166. 

Prophet,  25,  39,  54,  89,  128,  132, 
138,  148,  165. 

Prophetess,  85,  86. 

Propitiation,  8,  24,  79,  89,  (120), 
168,  (169),  170-172,  (175),  176, 
(177),  178,  179,  183,  186,  187, 
189,  205,  218,  223,  224,  229, 
257,  265,  274,  (283),  287. 

Purgative,  230,  233,  237,  238, 
240—244,  277,  278,  280.  Vide 
Cathartic. 

Q 

Quackery,  61, 105,  (106),  130,  147. 

Quinine,  249,  257,  268. 


Rachitis,  201. 

Rain,  73,  99,  107,  115,  132,  139, 
140,  141,  142,  143,  144,  152, 
157,  199. 

Rain-maker,  25,  140,  141,  142, 
143,  144,  151,  156,  157. 

Rain-making,  140,  (141),  156, 165. 

Religion,  21,  27,  (32),  92,  102, 
148,  150,  171,  233,  242,  265, 
286,  287. 

Religious,  ceremony,  182,  232, 
266,  271;  earnestness,  237; 
ecstasy,  259,  281 ;  functions, 
78;  ideals  258,  293;  interests, 
281;  leader,  34,  55,  287,  289; 
life,  47;  matters,  165;  office, 
149;  sentiments,  2;  signifi¬ 
cance,  251;  work,  98. 

Remedy,  19,  58,  75,  149,  163, 
(183),  184,  188,  201,  208,  209, 
219,  226,  227-282  chap.  VIII. 

Rewards,  165,  166. 

Rheumatism,  136,  188,  197f,  207, 
209,  275. 

Ricinum.  Vide  Castor  oil. 

Rites,  34,  59,  70,  93,  109,  110, 
133,  148,  161,  201. 

Roots,  92,  95,  148,  190,  202,  204, 
226,  231-234,  237,  275,  281. 

& 

Sacrifice,  8,  47,  (59),  (62),  66, 
67,  85,  99,  121,  146,  160,  161, 
163,  176,  178,  179,  181,  182, 

184,  186,  221,  224,  291. 

Satyriasis,  48. 

Scarlet  fever,  148. 

Science,  40,  (47),  (71),  89,  129, 
130,  149,  169,  175,  184,  192, 

198,  222,  226,  228,  269-271, 
274,  278—281,  283,  284,  287, 

292.  —  Medical  science,  46, 
81,  82. 

Scripture,  13, 18,  (32),  (39),  (172), 
(212),  (216). 

Scrofula,  148. 

Selection,  274;  natural,  3,  33,  51; 
societal,  292. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS 


325 


Sex  morality,  48,  66,  (82),  (83), 

(88). 

Sexual  abstinence,  47,  (48),  (56  f), 
(66),  (92),  215. 

Shaman(ism),  49.  passim.  Vide 
Medicine  man. 

Character  of,  21,  283. 
Evolution  of,  21,  283. 

Sickness,  passim. 

Sick-nursing,  284. 

Simulation,  (36),  (40),  43,  (44), 
(46),  (219),  (291). 

Sincerity,  (1051,  108,  (109),  (110), 
111,  112,  130. 

Scepticism,  35. 

Sleight-of-Hand,  104,  107. 

Small-pox,  11,  17,  18,  148,  223. 

Societal  control,  130,  292. 

Society,  2,  31,  65,  88,  89,  103, 
105,  117,  128,  130,  132,  140, 
148,  165,  232,  (288),  289,  291, 
292. 

Sociology,  283. 

Sooth-sayer,  25,  49,  (65),  98. 

Sooth-saying,  78,  (115),  148. 

Sorcerer,  15,  21,  24,  26,  33,  41, 
54,  132,  134,  145,  273.  —  Vide 
Medicine  man. 

Sorceress,  73,  76, 86.  Vide  Medi¬ 
cine  woman. 

Sorcery,  13,  88,  123,  149,  201. 

Soul,  5,  7,  8,  9,  13,  16,  31  (dream 
soul),  53,  61,  62,  117,  138, 146, 
159,  169,  179,  188,  200,  203, 
211,  212,  213. 

Spasm,  40,  (43),  (46),  (50),  (63), 
(85),  147. 

Specialization,  132,  165. 

Spells,  149,  169,  188,  226. 

Spirit,  passim.  Vide  Ghost. 
Familiar  spirit,  42,  (82). 

Spirit  theory,  17,  223,  251. 

Spirit  possession,  8,  11,  21,  32, 
34,  35,  38,  40,  41,  (44),  (47), 
(50),  63,  65,  69,  (73),  83,  119, 
176,  (177),  (189),  196,  199,  201, 
222  f,  251,  257,  259. 


Spirit  world,  5,  (20),  (21),  (22), 
(23),  (24),  (32),  74,  99,  145, 
(167),  (168),  178,  (209),  213, 
(251). 

Spiritism,  25,  (218). 

Spiritualist,  53,  137. 

Spiritualistic  medium,  73. 

Spittle,  15,  29  (saliva). 

Stomach,  8,  50,  136,  189,  233, 
234,  242,  249. 

Stomachic,  275. 

Strophanthus,  272. 

Struggle  for  existence,  3, 128, 129. 

Suction,  12,  (79),  (80),  190,  191, 
192,  193,  194,  224,  229. 

Suggestion,  43,  101,  112,  175, 
195,  217-222,  226. 

Sulphuric  acid,  285. 

Surgeon,  221,  260,  283. 

Surgery,  operative,  (87),  229,  284. 

Surgical  operation,  260,  271. 

Survival  of  the  fitter,  3,  151. 

Superstition,  30,  76,  111,  120, 
127,  (135),  208,  264,  266,  283, 
285,  286,  287. 

Swoon,  8,  120,  185.  Vide  Faint¬ 
ing-fit. 

Syphilis,  18,  198,  206,  275. 


T 

Taboo,  17,  290,  291. 

Teacher,  54  (of  magic),  129,  286, 
287. 

Therapeutics,  249. 

Therapeutic,  agencies,  195,  218, 
224;  agents,  268,  282;  expe¬ 
dient,  192,  229 ;  measure,  187 ; 
use,  198 ;  value,  201 ;  virtues, 
237. 

Tobacco,  44,  46,  143,  161,  191, 
230,  280. 

Toothache,  204,  207. 

Trance,  8,  13,  (38),  44,  48,  219. 

Trickery,  51,  53,  56,  70,  107. 

Truth,  110,  228,  257,  285,  292, 
293;  scientific,  71,  226. 

Tumor,  220. 

Typhoid  fever,  175,  220,  224. 


326 


THE  MEDICINE  MAN 


¥ 

Vaccination,  17. 

Ventriloquism,  53,  101, 

Vervain,  75. 

Vision,  44,  45,  48,  49, 
137. 

Vitals,  8,  203. 

Vomiting,  44,  80,  190, 
Vide  Emetics. 


104,  107. 
(50),  84, 

231,  234. 


W 

Warts  207. 

Water,  12,  17,  20,  28,  45,  86,  92, 
172,  199-202,  225,  229,  233. 
Weather,  139,  157. 

Witch,  14,  19,  31,  80,  119,  153. 
Witch  detective,  84,  85,  86,  89, 
(116),  120,  146. 

Witchcraft,  13,  14,  18,  80,  85, 
120,  153,  156,  273. 

Wizard,  16,  24,  52,  73,  86,  123, 
133,  134, 152, 156, 169, 193, 214. 


ERRATA. 


327 


When  this  book  was  going  through  the  press  the  author, 
assisted  by  many  scholars  and  proof  readers,  in  a  pains¬ 
taking  endeavor  to  avoid  all  errors,  read  fifteen  different 
copies  of  proof  sheets.  Absolute  accuracy,  however,  in  a 
work  of  this  character  is  so  difficult  that  on  reading  a 
corrected  copy  of  the  text,  after  the  plates  had  been 
made,  despite  all  precautions  taken,  many  inaccuracies 
were  found  to  have  crept  into  the  book.  The  only  recourse 
under  the  circumstances  is  to  append  the  following  errata. 


Page  8,  line  14 :  Instead  of  “Itougo”  read  ....  “Amatongo.” 

Page  10,  line  13:  Instead  of  “Togans”  read . “Tongans.” 

Page  11,  footnote  5:  Instead  of  “Page  93”  read  ....  “Page  73.” 
Page  12,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “Page  179”  read  .  .  .  “Page  199.” 
Page  14,  line  10:  Instead  of  “only”  read  .  .  .  “in  the  first  line.” 
Page  14,  line  23:  Instead  of  “Anisgi’na”  read  ....  “Anisgina.” 
Page  15,  line  10:  Instead  of  “and  then  burning  the  whole  in  a  secret 
place”  read  “which  is  then  buried  in  some  secret  place.” 

Page  16,  line  12:  Instead  of  “Kernai”  read . “Kurnai.” 

Page  27,  line  14:  Instead  of  “Bilquila”  read . “Bilqula.” 

Page  30,  line  14:  Instead  of  “Makjarawaint”  read  .  “Mukjarawaint.” 

Page  30,  line  15:  Instead  of  “Watgo”  read . “Wotjo.” 

Page  30,  line  15:  Instead  of  “the  necessary”  read  .  “a  desirable.” 
Page  33,  footnote  l:  Instead  of  “Depuis”  read  ....  “Dupuis.” 
Page  33,  footnote  3:  Instead  of  “Naturvoker”  read  .  “Naturvolker.” 
Page  36,  line  12:  Instead  of  “will  present  the  necessary 

qualifications”  read  “undergoes  the  bodily  castigations 
indispensable  for  it.” 

Page  36,  footnote  3:  Instead  of  “p.  179”  read . “p.  79.” 

Page  37,  footnote  1:  Instead  of  “Meyers”  read . “Myers.” 

Page  39,  line  19:  Instead  of  “a  god”  read  ....  “the  divinity.” 

Page  41,  line  15:  Instead  of  “imyanga”  read . “inyanga.” 

Page  41,  line  23:  Instead  of  “Dieyerie“  read . “Dieri.” 

Page  42,  line  6:  Instead  of  “medicine  man”  read  “medicine  woman.” 

Page  42,  line  6:  Instead  of  “his”  read . “her.” 

Page  45,  line  6:  Instead  of  “olloliuhqui”  read  .  .  .  “ololiuhqui.” 

Page  45,  footnote  5:  Read . “pp.  7-9.” 

Page  46,  line  23:  Instead  of  “Malanau”  read . “Milanau.” 

Page  48,  line  21:  Instead  of  “the  representatives” 

read . “the  female  representatives.” 

Page  49,  line  12:  Read  “the  amadhlozi  or  amatongo,  the  ghosts,”  etc. 
Page  50,  line  5:  Instead  of  “tormgarsuk”  ...  “tormgak” 

read . “torngarsuk”  . . .  “torngak.” 

Page  50,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “Crantz”  read . “Cranz.” 

Page  50,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “p.  194”  read  ....  “pp.  268-9.” 

Page  53,  line  6:  Read  ....  “invoking  a  tornaq  or  flying,”  etc. 

Page  53,  line  7:  Instead  of  “distinct”  read . “distant.” 

Page  54,  lines  11  ff.:  Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  56,  line  27:  Instead  of  “from  the  lodges  of  women” 

read  .....  “from  the  menstrual  lodges  of  women.” 

Page  57,  footnote  h  Instead  of  “XXVII”  read . “XXVI.” 

Page  58,  lines  9  ff.:  Remove  quotation  marks. 


328 


Page  59,  line  13:  Read  .  .  .  “African  and  Indonesian  tribes  . .  .”* 

Page  62,  line  18,  to  p.  66,  line  5:  Only  the  parts  within  quotation 
marks  are  taken  literally  from  the  text  of  Ellis. 

Page  67,  line  19:  Instead  of  “Ki  tshi  Man  ido”  read  “Kitshi  Manido.” 

Page  77,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “p.  469”  read . “p.  284.” 

Page  77,  footnote  3:  Instead  of  “American  Shamanism” 

read . “The  American  Shaman.” 

Page  78,  line  16:  Instead  of  “Tapantunnuasu“  read  “Topantunuasu.” 

Page  78,  line  19:  Read  “of  all  women  only  medicine  women  are 
allowed,”  etc. 

Page  80,  lines  1  ff.:  Only  the  words  within  quotation  marks  are 
taken  literally  from  the  text. 

Page  82,  line  20  ff.:  (the  same). 

Page  83,  line  6:  (the  same). 

Page  84,  line  22:  Instead  of  “gods  of  ancestral  spirits” 

read . “gods  or  ancestral  spirits.” 

Page  86,  line  23:  Read  .  .  .  “to  steal  away  to  dig  up  the  horns.” 

Page  86,  lines  24-25:  Inclose  the  words  “which...  (till) . 

. . .  wanderings”  in  [  ]. 

Page  88,  line  11:  Instead  of  “Kolmyck”  read  ....  “Kolymsk.” 

Page  88,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “American  Shamanism” 

read . “The  American  Shaman.” 

Page  92,  line  5:  Instead  of  “Indians”  read . “negroes.” 

Page  97,  footnote  1:  See  also  Ellis,  “Ewe-Speaking  Peoples,”  p.  146. 

Page  97,  line  19:  Instead  of  “superior  powers” 

read . “superhuman  powers.” 

Page  98,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “p.  589”  read . “p.  580.” 

Page  99,  line  24:  Instead  of  “uncared  for”  read  ....  “unkept.” 

Page  104,  lines  9-10:  It  is  an  error  of  Bartels  to  say  that  the  Mide- 
societies  spread  over  a  great  part  of  the  U.  S.  So  far  as 
is  known,  the  “Midewiwin”  existed  only  among  the  Algonquin 
tribes  of  the  Great  Lakes,  especially  among  the  Ojibway 
and  Menomini. 

Page  104,  line  17:  Instead  of  “assist”  read . “assists.” 

Page  104,  line  23:  Inclose  “they  contemplate  coming”  in  [  ]. 

Page  105,  line  25:  Inclose  medicine  men  in  [  ]. 

Page  109,  lines  7-10:  Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  111,  line  6:  Instead  of  “Dieyeri”  read . “Dieri.” 

Page  111,  line  7:  Instead  of  “America”  read  ....  “Australia.” 

Page  117,  line  16:  Read  “The  Algonquin  tribes,  especially  the  Sacs 
and  Foxes,  (who  belong  to  this  linguistic  stock),”  etc. 

Page  117,  footnote  4:  Instead  of  “Smithsonian  Contributions,  II,  p.  38” 
read  .  “Smithsonian  Miscellaneous  Collections,  II,  No.  53.” 

Page  118,  line  5:  Instead  of  “new  comer”  read  .  .  .  “newcomer.” 

Page  119,  line  21:  Instead  of  “Thlinkeets”  read  ....  “Tlinkits.” 

Page  121,  line  16:  Read  “In  some  parts  of  Africa,”  etc. 

Page  122,  lines  7-28:  Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  122,  footnote  1:  Instead  of  “pp.  142-146”  read  .  .  •  “p.  142.” 

Page  122,  footnote  2:  Read . “Ibid.  p.  144.” 

Page  123,  line  26:  Instead  of  “Sahaptain”  read  .  .  .  “Sahaptin.” 

Page  124,  footnote  k  Omit  “and  57.” 

Page  133,  line  17:  Instead  of  “gomera”  read  ....  “gommera.” 

Page  133,  line  21:  Instead  of  “Mangia”  read  ....  “Mangaia.” 

Page  133,  line  22:  Instead  of  “Tauna”  read . “Tanna.” 

Page  134,  lines  20-21:  Instead  of  “Hitzilopochtil”  read 

“Huitzilopochtli,  the  divine  king  or  celestial  leader  of  the 
Aztec  pantheon,  is  reputed,”  etc. 


329 


Page  137,  lines  10-13:  Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  138,  line  11:  Instead  of  “Caquingue”  read  ....  “Angola.” 

Page  140,  line  9:  Instead  of  “below”  read . “around.” 

Page  140,  lines  20  and  22:  Instead  of  “Hap-od-no”  read  “Hop-od-no.” 

Page  140,  line  21:  Instead  of  “Indians”  read . “Yokuts.” 

Page  142,  line  17:  Instead  of  “wommers”  read  .  .  .  “wommera.” 

(Wommera  =  a  throwing  stick). 

Page  143,  line  22:  Instead  of  “Lemnig-Lennape” read  “Lenni-Lennape.” 

Page  145,  line  21:  Instead  of  “Pe-i-men”  read  .  .  .  “Pee-ai-men,” 
or  “Piai-men.”  (cf.  p.  146,  line  4). 

Page  146,  line  12  and  footnote  6 :  Instead  of  “MacCurdy ’’read  “Thalbitzer.” 

Page  146,  footnote  6:  Instead  of  “p.  652”  read  .  .  “pp.  448,  450.” 

Page  147,  footnote  1:  Instead  of  “p.  692”  read . “p.  592.” 

Page  155,  line  2  ff.  r  Read  “novices,  realizing  the  dangers  attendant 
upon  it  as  upon  the  military  profession,  nevertheless  seldom 
forsook  the  vocation.” 


Page  162,  line  26,  to  p.  163,  line  5:  Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  163,  line  8:  Instead  of  “Mascotin”  read  ....  “Mascoutin.” 

Page  163,  footnote  l:  Read  “Smithsonian  Report,  1886,  Part  1”,  etc. 

Page  164,  lines  10-14: . Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  164,  footnote  2:  Read . “p.  124.” 

Page  164,  footnote  3:  Read . “Ibid.  p.  125.” 

Page  169,  line  6:  Instead  of  “quartz,  crystals”  read  “quartz  crystals.” 

Page  171,  line  21:  Read . “the  ancestral  spirits.” 

Page  172,  footnote  3:  Instead  of  “Sprengle”  read  .  .  “Sprengel.” 
Page  182,  line  20:  Instead  of  “state  god”  read  .  .  “national  God.” 

Page  182,  line  23:  Instead  of  “household  gods”  read  “national  God.” 

Page  183,  line  1:  Instead  of  “household  gods”  read  “national  God.” 
Page  184,  line  25:  Instead  of  “branches”  read.  .  .  .  “bunches.” 

Page  187,  line  10:  Instead  of  “agglutin-ating”  read  “aggluti-nating.” 

Page  191,  line  10:  Instead  of  “Kernai”  read . “Kurnai.” 

Page  193,  line  2:  Instead  of  “Gillan”  read . “Gillen.” 

Page  194,  footnote  2:  Instead  of  “1888”  read . “1887.” 

Page  196,  line  16:  Instead  of  “stepps”  read  .  .  .  .  ,  “steppes.” 

Page  200,  footnote  1 :  Instead  of  “pp.  221 — 232”  read  “pp.  221  and  282.” 

Page  217,  line  6:  Instead  of  HlIT  read . .  HliT 


Page  217,  line  7:  Instead  of  . 

read . 

Page  217,  footnote  *,  line  3:  Instead  of  HliT 


.  • .  n feoat  niir  . . . 
'fib*  . . .  fitooi  nirr 

read . '^1^1 


Page  217,  footnote  \  line  4:  Instead  of  flltOS  HliT  read 

Page  217,  footnote  1,  line  3:  Instead  of  “Jehova”  read.  “Jehovah.” 

Page  221,  line  4—10: . Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  221,  line  11:  Instead  of  “Chaundizi”  read  .  .  “Chaundezi.” 

Page  221,  line  12:  Instead  of  “Chemihuevi”  read  “Chemihuevi-Sal.” 

Page  233,  line  19:  Instead  of  “a  Zuni”  read . “Zufii.” 

Page  233,  line  21:  Instead  of  “Heidah”  read . “Haidah.” 

Page  234,  footnote  2:  Read . “Ibid.  p.  121.” 

Page  236,  line  5  and  12:  Instead  of  “Tristaon”  read  .  .  “Tristao.” 
Page  236,  line  14:  Instead  of  “Nauralia”  read  .  .  “Naturalium.” 

Page  242,  line  2—8:  . . Remove  quotation  marks. 

Page  246,  footnote  2:  Read . “Sahara  und  Sudan.” 

Page  279,  line  3:  Read . “Hepatica  acutiloba.” 


330 


Page  297, 
Page  297, 

Page  298, 
Page  298, 
Page  298, 

Page  299, 
Page  299, 

Page  300, 
Page  301, 
Page  301, 
Page  301, 
Page  302, 
Page  302, 
Page  303, 
Page  303, 
Page  303, 
Page  304, 

Page  304, 
Page  305, 
Page  305, 
Page  306, 

Page  306, 
Page  307, 
Page  308, 
Page  308, 

Page  310, 

Page  311, 
Page  311, 
Page  313, 
Page  314, 
Page  314, 
Page  315, 
Page  315, 
Page  315, 
Page  316, 
Page  316, 
Page  316, 
Page  316, 

Page  316, 
Page  316, 
Page  317, 

Page  317, 
Page  317, 
Page  317, 
Page  318, 


line  15: 
line  26: 
line  26: 
line  31: 
line  27: 
line  32: 
line  4: 
line  17: 


line  18:  Instead  of  “Beverly”  read  ....  “Beverley.” 
line  27ff:  Read  .  .  “Sixth  Annual  Report,  1884—1885, 

Washington  1888,  pp.  399—675.” 

line  2:  Read . “Britain.” 

line  21:  Instead  of  “London”  read  .  .  .  “New  York.” 

line  30:  Instead  of  “Cabello  de  Balboa”  read  “Cevallo  de 

Balboa.” 

line  3:  Instead  of  “1884”  read . “1870.” 

line  32:  Read  “Cranz,  D.,  Historie  von  Gronland.  Barby 

1765.” 

Read  “Some  Aspects  of  the  American  Shaman.” 
Read  .  .  .  “The  Hako,  A  Pawnee  Ceremony,  etc.” 
Instead  of  “pp.  14  ff.”  read  ....  “pp.  5  ff.” 
Instead  of  “pp.  580  ff.”  read  .  .  .  “pp.  17  ff.” 
Instead  of  “Ojibway”  read  ....  “Ojibwa.” 

Instead  of  “pp.  98  ff.”  read  ....  “pp.  3ff .” 
Instead  of  “Huchinson”  read  .  .  “Hutchinson.” 

Instead  of  “Britian”  read . “Britain.” 

lines  27  and  29:  Instead  of  “New  York”  read  “London.” 
lines  10-11:  Read  “Livingstone,  David,  Missionary  Travels 
and  Researches  in  South  Africa.  London  1857.” 

line  36:  Instead  of  “Tongo”  read . “Tonga.” 

line  15:  Instead  of  “1888,  pp.  444  ff.”  read  “1887,  pp.  379ff.” 

line  17-18:  Put  after  “History” . “Vol.  VI.” 

line  10-11:  Instead  of  “1890,  pp.  307—409”  read  “1891, 

pp.  801—409.” 

line  20:  Read  “Nachtigal,  Gustav,  Sahara  und  Sudan.” 
line  15:  Read  .  .  .  “The  Jesuits  in  North  America.” 

line  1-2:  Omit . “pp.  160  ff.” 

lines  21-22:  Read  “Great  Benin.  Its  Customs,  Arts  and 

Horrors.” 

lines  13 — 14:  Read  “Tanner,  J.,  Narrative  of  Captivity  and 
Adventures  among  the  Indians  in  North  America.” 

line  24:  Instead  of  “1870”  read . “1874.” 

line  27:  Instead  of  “Kleine”  read  ....  “Klinische.” 

*Col.  2 :  Put  between  “Andes”  and  “Annamites,”  “Angola,  138.” 
Col.  1,  line  4:  Instead  of  “Bilquila”  read  .  .  “Bilqula.” 

Col.  2,  line  13:  Instead  of  “Dieyerie”  read  .  .  “Dieri.” 
Col.  2,  line  19:  Instead  of  “Heidah”  read  .  .  “Haidah.” 

Col.  2,  line  21-22:  Omit . “Loango  92.” 

Col.  2,  line  26:  Instead  of  “Sahaptain”  read  “Sahaptin.” 
Col.  1,  line  6:  Instead  of  “Kernai”  read  .  .  “Kurnai.” 

Col.  1,  line  18:  Instead  of  “Lemnig”  read  ....  “Lenni.” 
Col.  1,  line  23:  Instead  of  “72, 135, 164”  read  “72, 92, 135, 164.” 
Col.  1,  line  32:  Instead  of  “Makjarawaint”  read  “Muk- 

jarawaint.” 

Col.  1,  line  37:  Instead  of  “Mangia”  read  “Mangaia.” 
Col.  1,  line  44:  Instead  of  “Mascotin”  read  “Mascoutin.” 
Col.  2,  line  27:  Instead  of  “Tapantunnuasu”  read  “Topan- 

tunuasu.” 

Col.  2,  line  32:  Instead  of  “Tauna”  read  .  . 

Col.  2,  line  35 :  Instead  of  “Thlinkeets”  read 
Col.  2,  line  40:  Instead  of  “Togans”  read  . 

Col.  2,  line  2:  Instead  of  “Watgo”  read  .  . 


.  “Tanna.” 
“TIinkits.” 
“Tongans.” 
.  “Wotjo.” 


*Col.  =  column. 


DATE  DUE 


PRINTED  IN  U  S  A. 


GAYLORD 


:t  ■ 


* 


. 


'  ? 


•r.  •• 


■ 


' 


